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“What does that mean?” I wanted to ask him about what Aubrey said. But I was so angry, so frightened, so scared that he’d say exactly what I didn’t want to hear. That I meant nothing to him, and this whole affair was pointless. That Aubrey was right, and he had no reason to really choose me. I was just one of many.
“We go on these cycles.” Reaper whirled circles of shadow around me with each sentence. “You act like you hate me, then you kiss me, then we go back to hating, then we continue like lovers. I’ve been thinking, and I determined there was a common denominator. The opinions of others.”
“The guidance of others is valuable to me,” I said, affronted.
“You haven’t noticed that your mother in particular likes to keep you hostage in her hold?” His shadows tightened, confining me. “I can’t tell if it’s because she’s jealous of you or is afraid of who you can become.”
My brows raised. “You spend your free time thinking of my mother?”
“I think of all the mortals that possess a fraction of power,” he answered. “And having a soul as wrathful and experienced as your mother pawning you around is a perilous position to navigate.”
Pawning. I was not a pawn. “My mother is hardly ancient. Though you’re proving her case. That demons will do anything to try to separate you from family.”
Reaper prowled toward me, shadows gleaming, scent and power all-encompassing. The shadows pressed against my back, forming a solid wall, as his hands caged around my head.
I stood my ground, unamused by his antics. This was the attitude of a man who had played me like a fool. Who made my lonely heart hurt a little too hard for a broken man.
“I can’t tell you what to believe about your family,” he said, warm breath coasting my face. “About your life, about anything you are. But I know that you are capable of being more. And I think you are afraid of that. Your mother knows you’re special. Why don’t you?”
I gritted my teeth. I hated that—condemnation—that marked his tone. I wasn’t oblivious to who I was. And here was he, so determined that he knew everything about me when he’d been fooling around with mortals for years.
“I am special.” I rose on my tiptoes to meet his eyes. He smirked. “Special enough to get any man I want. Should I prove it to you?”
His gaze darkened.
“If I took up that boy’s offer and rode something that wasn’t you, what would do?”
His gaze jumped to my mouth, irises dark. The shadows pressed in closer, near suffocating. “Those are some vile words from such a pretty mouth.”
My heart fluttered as he surveyed me. I couldn’t tell whether he wanted to hate me or love me.
He brushed his nose to mine. “I am not a jailor. Your life cannot be controlled by myself. I can only hope you will not resort to such…uncivilized options.”
“Will do,” I said.
“As you wish,” he responded, warm breath brushing my forehead as he fell away.
“Asyouwish,” I spat.
A small voice in my head told me I was being immature. Irrational. I should just bring up what Aubrey said. How long until he figured out what I was really angry about?
But not yet. I had to play first.
He wasn’t in charge now. I was. And he would not pressure me—not until I pressured him first.
I was in control.
Knowing my determination, my shadows manifested themselves as daggers in my waiting hands.
“I would advise,” Reaper breathed, eyeing them, “to not show your mother how much you’ve progressed.”
I propelled them at him. Too unexpected, too nimble for him to predict. He only looked at me in amusement as they bounced harmlessly off his body.
“You cannot hurt me with my magic,” he quipped. “But you’ve come a long way from the girl who ran away from me at House recruitment.”
“Why do you think my mother is jealous of me?” I asked, recalling my shadows.
The fascination and pride misted off his face, replaced with quiet contemplation.
