My eyes flicked past him in the hope that Morco had arrived, but he was nowhere to be seen. I saw Caius, who seemed close to Morco, but he was engaged in conversation at his table and probably didn’t even know I was there, let alone distressed.
Krull continued his stare. “Where’s that fire I just witnessed?”
“I said, I want to eat.”
“Go ahead,” he said. “Don’t let me stop you.”
I continued to stir the spoon in the bowl. “Kinda hard to do when you’re staring at me like that.”
“Like what?” His smile slowly faded, his eyes developing a dark intensity, knowing full well I wouldn’t dare identify his intentions verbally.
“I don’t want to have children.”
“With me or in general?”
I should tread carefully, but his presence was making it hard to breathe. “Both.”
His reaction didn’t change, but he cocked his head slightly. “I’m a survivor. That’s the kind of father you want for your child.”
“I don’t want children.”
“But you’re going to have them anyway,” he barked. “The Elders have decided so. You need to contribute to our society, and this is how you do it.”
I pushed the bowl forward slightly. “I contributed. And I will continue to contribute by planting and growing crops that will nourish us in the future.”
“That’s not enough.”
“Says who?” I snapped. “Are you one of the Elders?”
Instead of provoking his anger, I provoked something else, a sick smile. It grew across his mouth then reached his eyes. “There it is.”
I pulled the bowl back and tried to retreat within my body. I didn’t know how to deter his interest, not when he tried harder when I ignored him, not when he was amused when I fought back.
“Your eyes change when you get angry. I like it.”
My eyes immediately flicked away, and I wanted to squeeze them shut so he couldn’t look at them any longer. That was when I spotted Morco. He had just stepped into the Gathering wearing casual attire, a long-sleeved black shirt and trousers, probably trying to hide the bite marks from the dogs.
His eyes swept the areas as he approached the cauldron over the fire.
My eyes locked on his.Please come over here.
He stood in line like everyone else, didn’t cut just because he was the chief. He held my stare.
Please come over here.I knew he couldn’t read my mind, probably couldn’t read my stare either, not when we hardly knew each other. But I hoped he would somehow recognize my distress and rectify it.
He moved up in line and looked away.
The disappointment was like a knife.
“What are you looking at, Blue?”
My eyes came back to his. “What did you call me?”
“Blue.” He slowly smirked. “The same eye color my children will have.”
“I said no, alright?”
“For now. But everyone here knows you’re mine—and soon, you’ll know it too.”
