“I know what you’re doing. It’s not going to work.” My grip on my fork tightened.
“They’re even more beautiful when they’re full of unshed tears.” Pressing his tongue against the inside of his mouth, I watched it press and pop his cheek out.
“Don’t care,” I lied.
“Good. Because if my guess is right, ol’ one-eye and Pen are going to finally get her to agree with them on trying out Made to Match for her happily as can be, all things considered, after.”
“Why would they do that?” I muttered, my eyes narrowing on him.
“She’s not your mate, despite your fetish with her toes- Mm. Pardon me. With hertoe.” He popped his last bite of chicken into his mouth. “Why not?”
“I don’t understand.” A groan of pure frustration left me. “It doesn’t even smell like her.”
“True. She smells nice, like flowers.” His head bobbed in a nod. “That thing stinks.”
“It does not stink. It didn’t used to. And she smells like leaves,” I corrected, curving the pot tighter into my body, curling my hands up the sides to block his view.
“You smell funny when you’re nervous. Like parts of a tree.” Will’s eyes were swirling with liquid amber.
“Like bark,” I grumbled pointedly.
“I bet she smells really nice when she’s happy.” His gaze fixed on the pot. “Toe blossom in a pot nice.”
“For the love of- It’s a love blossom! A sentiments blossom!”
“A sentiment, a grand gesture. How dare the sheMarsh, how utterly bold. What kind of traditional, magically plant-like female would do such a thing to profess her feelings for a fellow Marsh male? What might that smell like, do you think?” Will talked in an endless stream of drivel, until I wanted to throttle him, but his words hit home, like barbs to my chest.
“She…” I started to protest. “She’s not…” the words died on my lips.
Washing his dish and setting it on the drying rack, he then attacked the pans. He nodded as he cleaned up and made to leave. “They were right,” he said finally. “You are a fool.”
Left there to my own wonderings, my shoulders slumped. I wanted to protest but couldn’t.
Taking my blossom pot along with me, I retrieved my glasses, redressed, scarfed down my food, grabbed my wallet and keys, and was headed for my parents’ before I could second guess myself.
I needed my folks’ words of wisdom right now.
Chapter 8
Aster
Itook off running, and it was like I couldn’t stop. I hurt. The creature in my heart ached with pain and longing. He didn’t want to be my mate. He’d made that abundantly clear. He thought my love blossom cutting barbaric? Was he of the Marsh or the marshmallow? I wasn’t raised by anyone of the Marsh after I was adopted, but even I knew. It was a sacrifice one made to show their mate their commitment to the bond, to them. I was so stunned, and then for him to just… up root it like-
Before I knew it, I’d changed direction. I knew where I was headed. Home, my parents’ place, was a long trip, and the Marsh I longed for was clear across the other side of town. Cliffie’s place was just a mile or so from my current position. I could be there in a blink. My big brother was technically my adopted sibling, but we didn’t care about things like that. We got looks growing up from strangers assuming what they liked. We didn’t care. His mate, a shewolf who turned her true mate, turning my pretty much Human sibling into not only a Werewolf along with her but opening the floodgate for his dormant Elemental side. Fire magicks. Nothing was more badass than a big brother that could breathe fire while he howled at the moon. He was a bit of a coddler, naturally protective. I needed that so badly right now.
I spotted the enormous grey wolf within moments of stepping foot on their property. Stuck shifted, I merely dipped my head in a slow nod and kept moving, slow and steady she goes.
Cliff’s tail started to wag and he bounded closer, but then he lifted his white splashed muzzle, took one deep sniff, and a soft whine of a noise left him and that tail drooped. Light blue-grey eyes studied my slumped body searchingly. Another sad noise left big bro.
Priya, his mate, burst from the trees, sleek bodied and black furred, her dark yellow eyes flashing. Butting up against her male’s side, she pressed the side of her muzzle along his in a quick nuzzle. Cliff immediately pressed back, his tail wagging like he had more dog in him than wolf. Or puppy love wolf, I should say. They were so sweet with each other, it brought what I would never have roaring back. The wounds were so fresh it felt like that creature in my chest Gren had crushed with his callous words was bleeding again anew.
We were almost to the house when Priya broke off from Cliff to run towards the house.
I was losing momentum, tired mentally and physically, my pace sluggish. Cliff trotted along, allowing me plenty of room.
By the time we reached the back garden of their house that bordered their woods, Priya had sheets up on the line for makeshift privacy screens and clothes hanging over them. Cliffie and Priya, or Pri, as he called his love, always kept extra spare clothes for me at their place for emergencies, like I did for them at the nursery.
Cliff changed and walked out in his favorite ratty pair of old grey sweats and Die Hard t-shirt while I stood here staring down at my very planty, viney hands.
