“You can’t just what?” I ask mockingly.
“I can’t just let you go.”
“You will have absolutely no choice,” I say, my tone turning icy instead of heated. “If this works and your pack is cured, you have no need of me anymore.”
“I don’t think it works like that,” he says, his voice rising. “We can’t continue like this, I realize that, but—”
“Oh, good. So, you agree.”
“Stop interrupting me!” he roars. “I haven’t spoken to you all week, and now you come in here and throw this on me and expect me to be okay with it?”
I stare at him in complete disbelief, a weird, prickly feeling crawling over my skin.
He really is a selfish fucking man-child. He doesn’t understand how this is wrong.
“It doesn’t matter,” I reply, relieved that my voice sounds calm. “I told Sadie the only way I’d comply is if I was allowed to return to my old life once this was done and your people were safe.”
Actually, we made no such promise, but it should have been implied. And if it wasn’t, Sadie will understand.
“Trina,” Owen says, his green eyes turning cold. “You can’t just make decisions without me—”
“Oh, really? That is so rich, coming from the guy who kidnapped me. Sorry, Owen, but this is how it’s going to be. I’ll try this spooky witch stuff, we’ll find your cure, but then I’m gone and don’t even think about trying to stop me.”
I turn and hurry away, wanting to put as much distance between the two of us as possible.
While we were fighting, we were inching closer together… and it felt like he was going to kiss me.
Even worse, I think I wanted him to.
Chapter 7 - Owen
Trina storms out of the room. The sizzling of my forgotten taco mix finally seeps through into my senses, and I rush to switch off the burner before the oil ignites. I’m pissed about everything Trina just said, and also deeply disturbed that I didn’t notice the meat burning. My senses should have been keen enough to sense it the moment it started sizzling.
I’m being constantly reminded of how weak I am.We do need to do something, but I’m never going to agree to Trina’s conditions. What the hell was Sadie thinking?
I salvage as much of the meal as I can and eat without enthusiasm, sitting by myself at the dining room table. I put the leftovers in the fridge when I’m done, making sure there’s enough for Trina, knowing that she’ll come out and eat after I’ve gone to bed.
That’s been her pattern for the last week. I’ve gotten used to her avoiding me, even though it upsets me more every day.
When I try to go to bed, I’m restless. Too many twisted thoughts are swirling around in my head. Ordinarily, I’d go for a run, but I can feel my wolf slumbering beneath a deep, dark curtain, and I know he won’t come if I try to summon him.
Even worse, a few texts come in from Serina, our healer. She’s taken in a few more pack members who have succumbed to the curse, and even though no one has died, it’s enough to leave me gravely concerned.
We have to do something. Maybe agreeing to Trina’s conditions is better than doing nothing.
Suddenly, my wolf rises, roaring and howling as it tears free from the shadowy web of my subconscious. The idea ofletting go of Trina is simply unacceptable, and even though my wolf can’t manifest, my primal side is making it very clear that we won’t let her go.
I toss and turn all night, unable to rest even slightly. When dawn lightens the room, and I hear Trina in the kitchen, I get up slowly, trying to settle my emotions so I can have a real conversation with her.
I need to take this one step at a time. I thought this was Sadie giving her false hope, but that’s just a cover for the fact that my wolf is going crazy at the idea of losing her. If I can work through this rationally, maybe we can find a solution that works for all of us.
My wolf growls deep in my soul, letting me know that any future without Trina is unacceptable. I try to quiet it, knowing that showing possessiveness is only going to freak Trina out even more.
When I get to the kitchen, Trina is sitting at the dining table with her coffee, smiling as she reads a magazine. She looks up as I enter the room, and the bright look immediately vanishes as she turns her face away from me.
“Good morning,” I say, trying to sound smooth but ending up awkward.
“Morning,” she says, not looking up.
