ARCHER
Darkness blankets the sky, but it does nothing to shadow the frustrations that continue to thrum through my veins.
I know I'm being stubborn, but I'm not the only one.
Why can't she understand that we're keeping it from her for good reason?
I truly believed I would never regret the decision we made, that there was a good reason behind it, but the moment we brought her back into our lives everything changed.
I hate that.
I can see that now, the past two years of pain, especially on her end, could have been avoided since we wound up in the exact same space, anyway. But I have to find a cause to hang on to, so it wasn’t all for nothing.
Scrubbing a hand through my hair, I try to turn my brain off, but the only thing that seems to do that comes in the form of a fiery phoenix, and there's no chance in Hell I’m getting a distraction like that anytime soon. Or ever again, if the pain in her eyes was anything to go by earlier.
Instead, I get to live with the guilt that floods my system.
Trudging across campus, I feel my device vibrate in my pocket. One quick glance and I spot Teddy's name on the screen,an incoming message, but I ignore it, shoving it back in my pocket.
He can fuck off as well.
My chest tightens at the mere sight of his name.
He should have made her stay in that meeting room, so we could talk this through.
Don't get me wrong, I understand now that it could have been interpreted very differently when Baron yelled in my face, but my intention wasn't to keep her there to force her to be grounded, just for her to understand, to calm down, to not be so chaotic.
It's never good when you feel like that, I know from experience, but her magic seems to fuel it further, beckoning that part of her in a way that cannot be calmed. Instead, she blasted from that room, leaving the tension worse than ever, and there is nothing I can do about it.
Unfortunately, I'm self-aware enough to acknowledge it's the lack of control I'm fighting with, but there is something else, that air of distance that's firmly between us once again.
I don't like it.
Approaching the dorm buildings, I step through the flames, determined to figure out the solution to my problems, when I'm stopped by the unfortunate sight of Francesca hovering at the bottom of the stairs. She plants her hands on her hips as she assesses me, and I breathe out a sigh, already over the exchange before it's even begun.
“All of this needs to stop, Archer,” she states, making my eyebrows gather.
“What, precisely?” I grunt, and she waves her hand around frantically.
“This mess with your mate.”
My jaw tics, revealing the slight flutter of irritation that courses through me, an emotion I wish I didn't feel at all so I could project ignorance to her inconvenient proximity.
“The only mess with my mate is you and your bullshit,” I grunt, and she scoffs.
“You know that's not true,” she insists, taking a step toward me, and I tilt my head, the familiar feeling of my fingertips chilling at her lie consuming me.
At least she knows she's talking crap.
“Do I?” I reply, like she isn’t a lying bitch, and she reaches for me, but I brush her arm away before she can make contact.
“Archer, we could be everything,” she breathes, and I rear back with disgust.
“I saw you as a sister,” I murmur, watching her face twist with disappointment.
I know her mate, he’s a good guy. A year older than her, hence his absence, but despite that, I’ve never seen her in that light. The second I rejected Ivy, even after seeing her in all her beauty, I never saw anyone else in that light.
Nothing more, nothing less.
