“What the fuck happened to you?!” I groan, worry spreading all across my face. She backs up. Her expression changes.
“You’re one to talk, look at you! Your arm is bleeding, and you look like you’ve been held hostage! Two can play this game, Braxton. Don’t act like you care about me when you really don’t,” she hisses. She turns around and sits next to Kailey again. Maybe I should start writing a book ‘How to not make friends.’ I could draw it better, Eliane is the one to write. I stomp toward her, a growl raising in my throat. No one can touch her, not like that.
“Let’s go,” I demand. I turn around, making amends to walk away. I look over my shoulder. Eliane doesn’t move. Come on.
“I said now,” I snap.
She lets out a sigh.
“You’re not my boss, and I am not your prisoner, ” she shrieks out. She exchanges a look with Kailey. I know what is going on. She doesn’t want to leave her friend.
“Kailey isn’t your mate—I am.” I bite back. I recognize my younger self in my voice, desperate for love.
Not anymore.
But I still hope she doesn’t hear my voice break a little.
A raw sound escapes my throat.
“You’re my duo or partner or whatever in here, not my mate. Again, we aren’t fae,” she argues, way cockier than normal. “And by the way, that is not what this is about!” she yells. She points her finger at me angrily. She is actually a little fiery thing under her sunny, sparkly, and bubbly side. Or maybe I woke that side in her.
I stroll towards her, giving Kailey a thankful nod.
“We will see you at the top. Thank you for helping her.” I grin at her. Kailey smiles at me, packing her things, making amends to leave. Eliane looks like she is going to explode. Before she can say anything, I wrap my arms around her waist and throw her over my shoulder. I stamp away holding her legs tightly as she dangles over my shoulder. I hear her yelp and am begging it isn’t in pain. She isn’t that small, but in comparison to me she is. She weighs as much as the weights I train with.
“Let go of me, you self-centered prick!” she spits out, kicking her legs frantically, slamming her fist into my back. I growl loudly, the sound coming from the back of my lungs.
“Stop growling at me!” she screams, smashing her fist harder into my back.
“I will if you stop acting like a little brat, Honey,” I grumble.
Sweat drips in my eyebrow and my hair sticks to my face.
At once, Eliane stops moving. She doesn’t react and I can feel her shiver in my arms. Before I can realize what is happening, I put her down.
She doesn’t react. A few seconds ago, she would have stamped away from me, but now? I don’t think clearly, and my hands cover her cheeks.
“What is wrong, Honey?” I ask worryingly. Her skin feels soft and a bit sticky from her sweat. Her eyes turn glossy, and she stares blankly into the air. She folds her arms together.
“Nothing,” she whispers. She presses her lips firmly together, she is holding back the tears. She acts like she doesn’t care, but she is a sensitive person.
“That isn’t true, I am sorry. I didn’t want to make you sad,” I apologize. I can’t stop myself from wiping a tear away from her cheek. She shivers under my touch, but her eyes wide and she looks deep into my eyes.
“No,” she interrupts. “It is not you.”
Her voice breaks.
It looks like she has something more to say so I let her. Tears roll softly off her cheeks, her lips holding onto all her emotions, trying to stay big. I can hear her scream in my mind, but as I look at her nothing comes out. I wrap my arm around her, pulling her into me. She presses her face into my shoulder and with my fingers I brush her hair that is slicked in a ponytail.
“I remember,” she whimpers.
I can’t look at her, but I can feel her mind.
She remembers what happened to her. Maybe Delilah didn’t hurt her? I slip in her mind, looking for the answers I desperately need. I can feel it. I can read her thoughts and memories.
The king.
Anger bubbles up in me and I am surprised steam doesn’t fly out of my ears.
