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“It’s not,” I say, interrupting him. “It’s about the fang you gave me.”
“Oh.”
Oh.
I don’t like that. He sounds resigned, like he’s been expecting me to bring it up sooner or later.
“I know what you told me it means. I know what you told me it does. But, and forgive me if I’m wrong, but I just listened to Ryker try to convince me that there’s more to it that you’ve never said.”
“And you believe him?”
“I don’t want to. That’s why I’m here. I need to hear it from you. Your fang… tell me it doesn’t mean what Ryker says it does. Tell me that I haven’t been walking around all of Muncie wearing a fang that marks me asAleksander Filan’s mate.”
“Gem. You have to understand—”
I don’t have to understand shit. I just need an answer.
“It’s a simple question. Tell me. I have to know, alright?”
Aleks removes his reading glasses before pinching the bridge of his nose. A soft sigh, followed by an even softer, “It’s a vampire tradition. You wouldn’t understand, would you?”
At my angry curse, he lifts his head, meeting my stare. “You needed time to see that I was the better choice. I told you, I’ll wait for you. I… I’ve just been waiting longer than you thought.”
“Oh, come on.”
I dig beneath my shirt, grabbing the fang between two trembling fingers. Ryker was right. That sucks almost as much as how blind I was to Aleks’s intentions.
I show him the fang. “Let me get this straight. When you gave this to me, you already planned on making me your mate?”
“Gem, we don’t have to do this now. I don’t know what that wolf told you, but you can trust me. I only want what’s best for you.”
Trust him? I did. For a year, I did.
“You want me to still trust you? Then answer me. Have you always thought of me as your mate? Yes or no.” When he refuses to respond, I let my wolf rise to the surface. It echoes in my voice as I say, “If you don’t answer me, I’m leaving. I’m not going to Accalia,” I add, because I know that’s exactly what he’s thinking, “but I won’t stay here if I can’t trust you.”
“No matter the answer?”
I nod.
Aleks says something under his breath in Polish, then he straightens his shoulders. “Then, yes. I’ve thought of you as mine since you first drove past the perimeter of my city.”
His admission seems to hit me like a truck. I actually stumble, though maybe that’s just because I need to put some space between us.
“But… that was May. You didn’t tell me until fucking September that you thought you might have feelings for me that were more than friendship.”
“I had to,” he insists. “If I told you in May, you never would’ve stayed with me. You never would’ve accepted my fang.”
Would I have?
“You’re right. I wouldn’t have.”
The weight of his fang hanging off my neck is absolutely unbearable. I’m not so ticked off that I snap the chain, but I do reach behind my neck and unclasp it.
“Gem, please—”
Nope. Not listening.
I shove my hand at him. The chain hangs off my pointer finger. “Take it back.”
