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“Like what?” I ask, my brow furrowing. “Like I’m concerned for you and want you to be okay?”
She rolls her eyes and mutters something beneath her breath.
“What?” I ask, trying to catch her eye on her next pass in my direction. “What’s up with you? I’m not the bad guy here, you know.”
“I know,” she practically snarls.
I snort and blink faster. “Wow. So far, I’m a big fan of the No Implant Juliet. Looks like we’ve got all the guardedness and crankiness of the original model, but now with more snarling.”
She spins to face me. “Does this seem like the time for jokes to you?”
“I wasn’t joking,” I say. “I was hoping a little sarcasm might help you see what an asshole you’re being right now. I understand that you’re going through something, but—”
“No, you don’t,” she says, storming up to me until her heaving chest is only inches from mine. “You have no fucking idea what I’m going through. I feel like my skin is about to catch fire.”
“Then put the locket on,” I say, fear for her taking the edge off my anger. “You don’t have to work through this stuff at one in the morning when you’re exhausted. Get some rest and—”
“But that’s not the worst of it,” she cuts in, making no move to take my advice. “The worst part is that I can feel all these…sensations. All these smells and sounds and vibrations in my bones that I never noticed before. It’s like I’ve been blind and now suddenly I can see, but seeing isn’t anything like what I thought it would be. It isn’t wonderful. It’s confusing and annoying and makes me feel more helpless than I did before.”
“Why?”
“Because I can’t control it,” she snaps back. “Any of it.”
“Of course, you can’t.” I lean down until my eyes are nearly level with hers. “Just like you couldn’t walk the day you were born. Gaining control of shifter stuff takes practice and time. Give yourself a break, Juliet. And give me one, too. I’m on your side.”
Her eyes begin to shine even as she continues to glare at me. “I can’t do this, Ford. I can’t deal with all of this right now.”
“Then maybe your mom was right, and you should leave the implant in,” I say, even as my stomach cramps in an anxious knot. “But the Juliet I know doesn’t throw up her hands and give up just because something is harder than she expected it to be.”
“It’s not just harder,” she whispers. “It’s impossible.”
I shake my head. “It’s not. Is shifting for the first time as an adult going to be hard? Hell yes, it is. But the alternative—”
“It’s not that,” she cuts in, her voice trembling.
“Then what is it?”
“I don’t want to want someone because my DNA and their DNA is a perfect match or whatever,” she says, her breath still coming fast. “I don’t want to want someone at all. But if I did, I’d want it to be because we were friends and cared about each other and had things in common.” She exhales with a roll of her eyes. “I’d want to be in love, okay? Even though I know that’s stupid and childish and not the kind of thing an outcast on a mission to take back her throne has time for.”
“Juliet, I have no idea…” I trail off, my furrowed brow smoothing and hope sparking in my chest as I get what she’s saying.
At least, I think I do.
One way to find out for sure…
I step closer. She trembles but doesn’t step away. “So, what you’re saying is that maybe the whole fated mate thing isn’t bullshit, after all?”
Her glare intensifies. “Don’t laugh at me.”
“I’m not laughing,” I promise, risking another small shift forward, until my mouth hovers just an inch or two above hers. “Do I look like I’m laughing?”
“I can’t do this,” she says, even as her chin tips up. “I don’t have room for this. In my brain or my life or any other part of me. I need to focus, Ford.”
“Then focus, Juliet,” I say, brushing the side of my nose against hers, my pulse racing as her hands fist in my shirt. “I’m not trying to stop you.”
“But you are,” she whispers, sliding her hands up my chest to thread into my hair as her nose brushes mine on the other side. “I can feel your blood, your…hunger calling to mine and I hate it.”
“Maybe you only hate it because you’re fighting it so damned hard,” I say, wrapping my arm loosely around her waist, ready to pull back if she snarls at me again.
