Really?
“It fucking rips me apart each month,” I hissed. “If you haven’t learned about a woman’s flow by this point in your life, it’s too late now. Go away.”
“That’s why you didn’t come to me,” he said, his voice much too chipper. “You’renotavoiding me.”
“Don’t sound too happy about it.”
He rolled onto his side to face me, his gaze open and… I could be misreading him, but he appeared almost boyishly sweet. Totally not Lorant—yet it was. “But Iamhappy about it because you’re speaking with me. Looking at me.Notavoiding me.”
“Iam not happy. I’m in pain. It’s torture, and I hate it, and right now, with you smiling in a goofy way, I can’t believe I’m seeing inLorantinstead of Merrick, I hate you as well.”
“Merrick’s smiles are goofy?”
Leave it to him to take only that from my statement. “Hissmiles are gorgeous. The prettiest smiles I’ve ever seen.”
“You said goofy. While my smiles are…”
“Condescending. Irritating. Snide.” I hated how his presence made my pulse jump, how he seemed to command a room with his sheer will alone. Yet there was a part of me that didn’t entirely dislike it. Such strength. Such dominance. It could be comforting. If I had to face down a foe, wouldn’t his relentlessness be the shield I needed?
“I like that you can see me in such a flattering light.” The touch of a laugh came through in his voice.
Why in all the fates did he sound so full of life when I wanted to slide into my agony and die?
“You’re also overbearing. Arrogant. Insufferable.” His cold words could cut me as sharply as any blade, and his arrogance grated, a constant friction that left me feeling gouged open and exposed. But behind his sneer, if I squinted through the cracks, I could see his pain. Pain he didn’t trust me to heal.
Trust—did I even want that with Lorant?
“Those are positive attributes,” he said. “Not flaws.”
“Lorant,” I growled. “Go away, or I’ll start listing all of Merrick’s wonderful attributes.” I rubbed my poor aching belly. Damn flow. Damn Lorant for seeing me weakened this way.
“You don’t hate me,” he marveled. “You like me. Maybe even more than like me, but there it is.”
“Gracious. Compassionate. Empathetic.”
“He is all that. I’ll admit it.” His fingertips traced across my shoulder, and damn me as well, because I wanted to drown in his touch until it blocked all the pain.
“Selfless. Optimistic. Charming.”
“We already agreed I can be charming.”
“Lorant! Shut the fuck up. Better still, go away. Don’t haunt me again for a few days. After that, I’ll be back to my old self, and we can verbally spar once more.”
“Do you promise to come back to the tower, to tease me and look at me with lust in your eyes? To carve that L into the floor for everyone to see? I want to climb up onto the roof and sit with you in my arms while we share what little joy we can find in this world.”
The stark vulnerability in his voice broke me, a tough challenge when agony kept stabbing through my belly.
It distracted me.
It made me…
Alright, it was making me love him when nothing else ever could.
“You know,” Lorant said, his voice a touch smug as he adjusted his position on my bed like he planned to remain here for the night. “I could help you.”
I shot him a glare and dragged my arm over my eyes to block him out. “Are you going to wave your dark, broody magic aroundand whisk away my flow? What exactly do you think you can do, Lorant?”
“That sharp tongue of yours always thrills me,” he drawled, his grin I spied past my arm making him seem almost playful. If I hadn’t been curled into a tight ball of agony, I might’ve hurled something at his insufferably gorgeous face. A pillow, at least. “You forget how I eased your seasickness on the ship, Wildfire.” His tone lightened, taking on a sweetness this man should not be able to host. “Do you remember that?”
