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He watched the others, laughing and carrying on, with a solemn expression. What was with him? Did he honestly want to be a part of that?
“What’s up, Grif?”
He sighed, running his long fingers through his white hair. “I was just hoping to get a moment to speak with Emily, alone, but she’s barely even acknowledged me. I know it sounds stupid, but I was hoping she might be excited to see me. Do you think she’s mad at me?”
I scoffed. I know, I was supposed to be playing friendly, but in my defense, it was a little scoff. It could’ve been much louder, but I held back. “Who cares?”
He frowned. I don’t know what he expected me to say. He knew how I felt about her. Did he expect me to encourage him? Just as the thought crossed my mind, I felt a nudge in my brain, as if my mind was telling me to do just that.
Don’t disappoint.
I heard the words, clear as anything. Samara was, in a sense, watching me. Maybe she could see me, or maybe she could hear my thoughts—I wasn’t totally sure of her abilities—but she was letting me know that in order for my mission to be a success, I had to play nice.
I sighed. “What I mean is you haven’t done anything wrong for her to be mad. If you’re really concerned, just go talk to her.” I waved my hand, trying to appear unphased, though the words tore through me, shredding my heart. The last thing I wanted was to encourage their relationship and to see them talking alone in front of me. But I had to suck it up—for now.
“But what if she doesn’t want to talk to me?” His expression was… pitiful. Pathetic. Why was he so worried about her? I know they’re mates, but come on, Griffin. Grow a pair.
“Are you a little bitch, or are you a badass wolf?” I asked, taking him by surprise. His eyebrows shot up, his focus on my words. “Quit being a wuss and go talk to her. And if you’re really that worried, then here …” I grabbed his hand and traced an intricate symbol on his palm, giving it a light squeeze before releasing him.
“What was that?” he asked, staring at his hand.
I shrugged. “I traced a pattern and instilled it with a little boost of confidence to make you quit whining and go over there.”
“Woah,” he said, transfixed by his hand. “I didn’t know you could do that.”
I can’t.But what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. I had given him a little boost of magic, though it wasn’t what he thought it was. Samara had taught me the trick—how to use my energy and potions to “inject” the magic into someone else. Trace a few ancient symbols with a spell, and bam!
Griffin smiled, and my heart warmed into a pool of butter. “Thanks, Morgan.” He patted my arm—the contact sending a wave of bliss through my body—and stood from his seat, making his way to Emily.
And in an instant, the warmth had dissipated to a cold, bleak feeling that extended through me. For the briefest moment, I’d almost regretted tracing that symbol. But when I saw him approach Emily, extending a hand to whisk her off on her own love adventure with him, I knew I’d made the right decision.
I’m sorry, Griffin, but it’s for your own good. You’ll understand soon enough.
