I gave a hard shake of my head.
“Can’t have her scared of me. I can accept rejection; I can bear the hatred. But fear? Never that.” I pawed at my shirt with a closed fist, trying to rub the feeling away.
“I hear you, my friend. Damn, I hate seeing you like this. You don’t deserve it after what you’ve lost. But…what will you do, then?”
No reply.
“You love her, right?”
“With all my heart,” I declared, serious and sure.
“Are you…” Killian lowered his voice, glancing around. “…afraid that it’ll, you know, force her to mate?”
“Don’t wanna find out, Kill.”
“But—”
“It’s just… When we kissed at the party?—”
“Hold up.” His head snapped up. “What party?!”
A small grin tugged at my mouth. “Comet’s.”
Killian slammed both palms onto the table so hard that our bowl of peanuts jumped in place. Good thing I was holding onto our glasses.
“Shut the fuck up! You went to Comet alone? You know our heads have a bounty there, right? And why wasn’t I invited?”
I shrugged. “The wereball team arrived later. I even signed a few autographs.”
“Ah! Even their fans prefer you, my T-man!”
We smirked, and he smacked my hand like we’d just made a touchdown.
“So, lemme get this straight,” he continued. “You go to her party, and she sees you messing around with another chick?—”
“The fuck? No, of course not! We danced.”
“Aww,” he crooned, fluttering his lashes at me. “Did you stare into each other’s eyes?”
Actually, yes. But I wasn’t going to tell him that. That moment—ours—wasn’t for sharing.
“I wanted to tell her who I was. I was about to.”
Killian’s brows shot up. “You were?”
“Yeah.” I scratched my chest, suddenly itchy. “Then she kissed me again?—”
“Oh yeah?—”
“—and there was this…sudden urge. To mark. To mate her.” His grin slid right off his face. “I couldn’t fucking control it. It was so intense. The beast…” I swallowed, paling. “The beast almost took over me. All those years of training, all that practice to contain it, just gone. Thanks to a single kiss.”
Killian’s foot stilled, no longer tapping under the table. “So it’s back.”
I recalled the cursed night Yvaine had slept with that loser tutor. How I’d dropped the milk carton when it was halfway to my mouth. How I’d doubled over from the pain, clutching my chest. How my palms had come away red. How the milk on the floor had turned bloody, and how everything else had turned red, too…and then black.
I woke up later, naked, in the middle of a destroyed truck. Like a huge nest made of metallic scraps.
“Yeah. It’s back.”
