Page 28 of Whispers


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“I’m not the sort of man to make choices for other people. If she wanted that, who was I to deny her?”

Brax walked up and wrapped his fingers in the front of my shirt, his face having shifted, his body larger so he was taller than I was. “She’s jumping and flinching at every fucking thing, and for what? She got nothing out of that, but now she’s got scars in her head in addition to those on her body. That’s your fucking fault. I should put a few scars on you to make it even, to pay you back.”

I didn’t bother to knock him away. What was the point? It was like swatting at a fly—it took energy, but since the fly couldn’t harm me, why waste my time? “You can try, but in what way would that help her at all? I would think, if you were so concerned about her, you would be with her rather than here.”

“She isn’t alone.”

“Really? So you left her to someone else? You always struck me as the primal, possessive type.”

“Don’t act like you know shit about me.”

“I know you are exceedingly reckless. The only chance you might have against me would be if youfully changed, if you gave yourself over entirely to your berserker, but you aren’t about to do that, are you?”

He pressed his lips together, the muscles beneath his skin shifting as they still grew and changed. After a moment, he yanked away.

Well, at least he wasn’t as stupid as I’d first thought.

He pointed a finger at me, the nail sharpened to a lethal point. “Stay the fuck away from Hera.”

“That isn’t up to me, and it isn’t up to you, either. If you believe she is someone you can control, who you can lock up, then you truly are just as foolish as everyone says.”

He narrowed his shining eyes. “If you hurt her or betray her, I don’t care what you are, Iwillput an end to you.” He didn’t wait for a response—probably because he knew it would only further our little argument—before he left the room. He slammed the door behind him so hard, it shook the walls.

After he’d left, I stared at the door, lost in thought, in the words he’d said, the things I wanted to deny but couldn’t.

Maybe he was right.

Maybe it had been a bad choice to help her, to get involved, to bind her to me. While that bond would lessen over time without contact, it would never fully go away.

Even if I scolded myself for my unusually rash decision, I didn’t regret it. Even now, Ifelther. It wasn’t telepathy, not even a real emotional sense, but I knew she rested at the end of that thread, she lived, even had a sense of her distance from me. Or perhaps it was better to say I felt my own poison inside her, calling back to me.

Had I caused her pain? Had I endangered her? Had I harmed her?

I couldn’t deny any of those things, yet I couldn’t bring myself to want to take it back, either.

I hadn’t felt attached to anyone or anything in so long. I had drifted aimlessly through life for decades. I wanted this connection, even if it ended up destroying us both.

* * * *

Hera

Everything hurt when I woke, and for a moment, I considered just going back to sleep. Sure, I’d slept for a long damned time, and I wasn’t tired anymore, but the idea of dragging myself from bed felt impossible.

I rolled over and pulled the blanket around me tighter, wanting to ignore the world. I had nothing to do all week. Deacon must have called in some good favors, because he’d gotten me out of both work and classes for the next five days.

I sighed as I recalled how I’d leaned against Brax, how I’d flinched when he’d touched me, and that made me want to hide even more. He must have put me into my bed after I’d fallen asleep.

The last thing I wanted was to wake up and see him there, not after he got a glimpse of my breakdown, not with the volatility of our relationship.

A heavenly scent floated through the blanket, and I frowned. A sound from the kitchen further caught my attention, made me sit up and stare toward the closed door.

Was someone cooking food in my kitchen?

Part of me considered going right the fuck back to sleep anyway. I didn’t want to deal with whoever had broken in. Let the world fall to chaos as long as I could stay wrapped up in my blanket.

Then my stomach rumbled, and I doubted I could sleep well like that. It seemed the mysterious chef in my kitchen had figured out the perfect lure draw me from my room. I pulled my hair into a bun again, then went into the bathroom long enough to brush my teeth. I didn’t feel like showering. The idea of stripping down and getting into the water felt like far too much work just to eat.

It meant when I walked out of the bedroom to find Wade in my kitchen, I probably should have felt self-conscious. My messy hair and rumpled clothing should have embarrassed me, but they didn’t.

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