“Don't act as if you're not going to try it,” he huffed at her.
Vanessa grinned wickedly. “With a sprinkle of sugar, baby!”
“But seriously, Shane.” John set a stern gaze on me. “If you like him so much, why not take a chance on him? Do you know how rare a connection like that is? And you're gonna give it up just because it's risky? That's bullshit. All relationships are risky.”
“Yes, but they don't all transform you into another race—an immortal race,” I shot back.
“Yeah, but the good ones always change you,” Evan said softly. “Maybe not on the outside, but inside they do. That's love, Shane. Fucking deal with it or learn to live without it.”
We all went quiet. As much as Vanessa had teased John about not having a steady lover, that was not uncommon in the camps. Soldiers had to live with the fact that they could die at any moment. Instead of making them more prone to love, it made them love-shy. We were all for living in the moment and having a good time, but forming an attachment to someone who could die the next day wasn't a good idea. Almost as bad as falling in love with a mortal man when you were an immortal fae warlord.
So the question was; was loving Tae worth losing my mortality? Was it worth the risk of him leaving me in the lurch after I'd made that sacrifice?
I just wasn't sure.
Did I want to learn to live without love? No. That Iwassure about. But it didn't mean that I had to love Taeven. Oh, who the fuck was I kidding? I already loved Taeven. The real question was, could I live without him?
I thought about being with someone else. About fucking them without laughing. Riding them without watching them go savage and without having the power to calm their rising beast. My chest ached, and I suddenly wanted to cry.
I stood up abruptly. “I gotta go,” I muttered and hurried away.
No one tried to stop me. I'm sure they understood that I needed to be alone. But halfway to my tent, a strong hand grabbed my upper arm and swung me about. I expected to see one of my friends, but I ended up face to face with Doran. I stared at him, fascinated by his beauty. Not because it was so great but because it didn't affect me anymore. And it wasn't because of the fight we had. It was because he'd been replaced. Completely replaced. There was no fucking comparison.
“What did you do?” Doran growled.
I jerked my arm out of his grip and glared at him. “It's none of your business, dickhead.” I tried to walk away, but he angled himself in front of me.
“Look, I owe you for what you said to Taeven. That was decent of you,” he muttered grudgingly. “But the Falcon Lord came back from Fellbrook a changed man. He's been . . . mean. And he's not cruel, not usually. So, just tell me, what did you do?”
I ran a hand over my hair and sighed. “I fell in love with him.”
Doran gaped at me. It was easy to admit my feelings to him because he didn't care. He wouldn't give me sympathizing looks like my friends might. And, frankly, seeing his shock was a balm to my injured heart.
“Youwhat?” Doran whispered.
“You heard me; I'm not repeating it. Fuck, it's the first time I've said it aloud, and I'm kind of regretting that I said it to you.”
Doran stared at me for a few, long heartbeats, then grabbed my wrist and started pulling me away.
“What are you doing?” I tried to wrench free, but he wouldn't ease up.
“You and I are going to have a serious talk, and that talk is going to involve wine.”
I relaxed. Doran wanted to talk? Now? After I'd lost interest in him? Go fucking figure.
“I've talked about it enough,” I grumbled. “I just want to be alone.”
“No, you don't.” He dragged me up to a tent much larger than mine, though not nearly as big as Taeven's, and pulled me inside.
It was spacious enough that in addition to a sizable cot, there was also a dresser and a small dining table. The perks of being a fae knight, I suppose. Doran pushed me toward the table, then fetched a bottle and two glasses from the top of the dresser. He sat down, poured us both a glass, then set one before me.
“Drink,” Doran said.
I drank. Then I had a coughing fit. “Are you crazy?” I shoved the glass away from me. “That's fae wine, and I'm mortal.”
Doran grimaced. “Fuck. I forgot.” He stood up. “Stay here.” With that, he strode out.
I spat into my glass while he was gone, trying to get as much of that shit out of my mouth as possible. It was delicious and a few sips would have been fine—I’d tried it before, which is how I'd recognized the flavor—but a glass of the stuff could have killed me. That single sip had sent me into a relaxed pre-drunk state, and the last thing I needed was to get sloppy drunk around Doran.
