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She needed a break. From everything.
Fromme.
But the space that stretched between us hurt. I didn’t like knowing she was stomping away from me. I didn’t like the feeling of her being upset with my actions. Goddess, it was so much more than that too. The fact that I couldn’t take away her agony made me feel like a failure.
I was a protector. I was a guardian who would keep her secure. My home—what was rapidly becomingourhome—was supposed to be the one place where her worries were put to rest. Instead, they were worsening. They were growing like weeds. They were preventing her from sleeping and giving her a permanent aura of disdain.
Her smiles and confidence conveyed enough to soothe me so I wouldn’t press her for answers. Shit, she was probably faking that. The triumph of her accomplishments wasn’t fake, but I knew Anita was blaming herself. She probably was trying to keep me from suspecting that her thoughts had gone dark again.
Healing was a long process, one that demanded patience from everyone involved. Me included. If I didn’t shower her with patience, then I was going to push her away.
Just like I had done minutes ago.
I sighed.What would Fred do?
Well, Fred would go after his girl. Which was something I should have jumped at the moment Anita left her seat.
Space was important for people in tense situations. Space gave people a more impartial view of whatever events were unfolding. While walking through the living room, I noticed how Anita had thrown her clothes in random spots on the couch, on the floor, and hung some on the chair near the window. Thatsame chair could have been ash if she hadn’t grabbed it from the apartment before the fire.
I scrubbed the bridge of my nose.She’s probably still upset over that too.
After yanking on my boots and lacing them up, I darted out the door and down the steps. I shoved my hands into my pockets, ducking against the brisk wind as I headed for the neighborhood. Warm sugar and vanilla tantalized my senses, leading me to the places where Anita had gone.
Past the houses. Past the school. Past the greenhouse.
Gangly yellow stalks stood in perfect rows in the field. Amidst the weathered plants that were asleep for the winter was a ponytail of black hair. That lavender coat stuck out against the pale wheat color of the stalks, pinpointing my vision on her like a laser.
I waded into the field and stepped over fallen stalks, debris, and piles of leaves. When I reached Anita, she didn’t turn around. She didn’t acknowledge my presence. She cried in short, choking huffs that made it feel like a knife was twisting inside my heart.
I reached for her back, hurt when she shook my hand off.
Alright, fine. That wasfine. If she wanted to cry alone, then who was I to stop her from doing that?
Right when I turned around, I heard her hiccup. I sensed the confusion in her stance, those wobbling legs hardly giving her much steadiness as she trampled her feet repeatedly into the withered stalks on the ground.
“People keep asking me where my mark is,” she whimpered. “They keep asking about the baby and when I’ll know the gender.”
I took a huge breath and then turned around as I exhaled. “I’m sorry, Ani.”
“You’re sorry,” she stated flatly. “That’s funny.”
“How is that funny?”
Her right brow dipped. “You sound like you’re apologizing for my pain or something.”
“Isn’t that what you’re talking about?”
She slowly shook her head. “No, Liam. I get excited when people ask me that question. A mark for a mate—people keep telling me how that solidifies things.”
“From what I’ve seen, it makes it pretty permanent. It’s a protective gesture. It apparently carries a lot of magical qualities.”
“That’s the biggest gesture anyone could ever give me.”
My tongue danced behind my teeth. Already, I wanted to taste her flesh, to feel the rush of adrenaline in her tense muscles as I sank my canines into her throat. That prompted me to rub my neck where a mark from her would be placed.
Which probably would never happen.
Thunder rumbled above. I gazed at the sky, noticing the gray clouds moving swiftly above. “We should head back.”
