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We ate in silence,for the first time in weeks. Knowing I would insist on doing the dishes, Ivaylo headed up to work on the lever.
Were we fighting?
I wasn’t sure, but it seemed like we might be.
My uncertainty emphasized that weird itch I had to go out andrun, but obviously, that was a bad idea.
If I ran, Ivaylo would chase me. Then, I’d come back with a furious mate while both of us continued to war against the frenzy’s magic.
It didn’t sound delightful.
So, running wasn’t an option.
I let out a long breath, did the dishes, then tucked my nose back into the book.
Dinner went muchthe same as lunch, with Ivaylo cooking while I tried to read. Once again, he went back up to work on the lever while I did the dishes.
Frustration welled up in my chest as I scrubbed them.
He wasn’t sharing his thoughts with me—and I wasn’t sharing mine with him.
Granted, a lot of it was my fault, if not all of it.
I was the one who had suggested to his pack that I didn’t care about our bond, simply because it was fated. We needed to talk about that, but he had walked away from me.
So, my options were to either act like I didn’t care and return to my book… or face my emotions and have a difficult conversation.
I groaned inwardly.
Dammit, I was going to have to deal with the discomfort.
I stayed quiet as I once again pulled all of the books off the shelf, and hauled it across the room while still trying to remain silent.
I felt stronger than I had the first time I moved the shelf. Maybe his magic was changing more than my hair.
My legs trembled a bit as I scaled the bookshelf and grabbed the ledge, hauling myself up.
That was easier than I remembered, too.
Ivaylo’s attention snapped in my direction as I plopped down on the stone, and his lips twisted in a snarl. “What are you doing?”
“Talking to you.” I forced myself to stay calm, even though he was clearly mad at me.
“With the bookshelf, Ez. What are you doingwith the bookshelf?”
“I needed a way up here.”
“You could’veasked.” That was nearly snarled as well.
“You didn’t want to be disturbed.”
“I always want to be disturbed by you,” he growled, turning back to the mechanism he was working on again. He had taken apart a chunk of the wall the week before, and was working with gears, grease, and a few other things I didn’t recognize.
“How are you doing?” I gestured toward it.
He grunted. “Fine.”
I bit back a huff. “Would you stop avoiding me?”
