Page 77 of Pareidolia

To protect me?

I don’t need protection, but…

“Aspen I… Oh.” Noah frowns as he comes around the book stacks. “I didn’t know someone else was here.”

I can feel a new emotion roll off of Aspen—shock and confusion as he turns… and then stunned silence as he takes me in.

I don’t like wearing the guise of a human, but I’ve donned this form a few times in my existence. The feel of clothes against tan skin feels strange, and wrapping my arm around Aspen’s waist without having another to tangle in his hair is… off.

But I stand beside him as someone who can stand beside him and quietly tell myself that Noah still has to look up to meet my eyes.

Human.

Human reaction.

Human emotions.

Aspen has infected me.

“I… this is…” He looks at me almost helplessly and I squeeze his hip, dragging him against my body. Even in this form, I still stand a foot taller than him.

“Nox.” And then, because I can’t seem to help myself. “Aspen’s mine.”

Aspen tenses beside me, and I realize that wasn’t a very human response, but…

He’ll have to take what he can get.

“Yours?” Noah frowns, looking between us. “Funny, he’s never mentioned you.”

Death. Red, violent death.

I’m going to kill the ranger.

Aspen steps closer and slides his hand beneath the leather jacket I’m wearing, dipping fingers under my shirt to dig them into my all-too-soft skin. “Sorry, he just came into town.”

Technically, it’s not a lie.

His fingers digging into my flesh is the only thing that stops me from moving when Noah speaks again.

“Right.”

“Sorry, I probably should have mentioned him before.” Aspen tries to sound apologetic, but all he’s really putting off is little waves of confusion and shock that let him take a step back with his arm still around me. “I think he was just coming to pick me up so we could go back to the house, right, Nox?”

“Right.” I don’t take my eyes off the man standing in front of us. He’s full of completely different emotions.

Concern.

Anger.

Resentment.

“Your shift isn’t over, is it?” I have to bite back a snarl as Aspen shrugs.

“I only have about twenty minutes left, and Faye should be back soon. We’ll be all right.” He raises his hand, rubbing his neck in a mock gesture of innocence.

It pulls the shirt he wears down—shows the slightest glimpse of one of the bruises I left on his neck. Noah’s eyes bounce between the bruise and the gloves, the turtleneck, and back to Aspen’s face.

“Aspen…”