Or I could always—my thoughts came to an abrupt stop as fingers wrapped around my wrist.
“Reece, wait,” Laken pleaded, and regrettably, I spun around at him.
His blue eyes were aimed at me, round with a saddon’t golook pouring from them. His thumb traced over my bones, but I couldn’t. I couldn’t stay.
Blinking away my hesitation, I offered a pitiful smile. “It’s fine, I’ll see you tomorrow.” I pulled my arm away from him. The feeling of his fingers slipping from mine would torment me for the rest of my days. “Bye, Rebecca.”
And with those words, I bolted.
A very cold and half-naked dragon made her walk of shame.
I’d been naïve to think I could get Laken out of my system. Hewasmy system. Laken made up the blood flowing in my veins, the shards pricking my heart each breath, the mess in my mind, and the pain in my ass.
Exhausted from a sleepless night, I lifted my decaying limbs from bed. That’s how it felt, at least. Not bothering to change out of the silk nightgown I’d barely gotten myself into, I laced up my boots and went downstairs. It wasn’t until I saw the window wall that I realized how early I’d woken up. A sky of lavender and periwinkle stared back at me, a stranger to its presunrise colors. Digging my hands under my arms, I figured the hellblazers would at least be excited to see me before the sun for once. Then again, I probably wouldn’t want to wake up to me, either—unless I brought food. And in their case, I did.
The feeding routine and measurements were branded into my brain after all these weeks of doing it. Of course, Laken made it easier, but I wasn’t sure when he’d show up this morning. If he came at all. So I slipped through the door and scooped out the chickens’ feed. It took two trips. I kneeled for the second drop-off as they huddled around, stretching their feathers.
The exact moment I set out the pellets, I glared up at Fried Chicken. Tiny little chicken eyes burned a hole into my skin, but I stared back. “Not today, you asshole.” Cocking hisneck, his feet pitter-pattered away and he left me alone. Even he knew.
Or even he wanted to be farther from me.
Finneas and Finnigan’s feeding flew by flawlessly, but Phoebe wasn’t in her bed or enclosure. She must’ve woken up early, too. Dreading each of my next steps, I knew it’d take me several trips to carry Butters’s food, but I was a capable and independent woman—who happened to be desperately struggling. Physically and emotionally.
It’s fine. Everything’s fine.
Picking up half a watermelon in one arm and a rusted tin bucket of other fruits in the other, I slowly started my walk to Butters. Luckily, his enclosure wasn’t too far.
“Need some help with that?”
I froze. I hadn’t even heard the gate or door open, but somehow Laken had snuck his way into the back with us. Carefully spinning around as I balanced the watermelon between my arm and unsteadily resting against my hip, I faced him while juice soaked my hand. “No.” I shook my head. “All good here.”
The expression on his face said enough. One little hiccup and I’d taken seven steps back. I’d receded back into myself, shutting down, and shutting him out. And he saw it.
Holding his stare as though it held a physical grip on me, I couldn’t turn away. Laken smiled, shaking his head at the ground. Awkwardly standing there, I waited, but he quickly slung his head up and straightened his shoulders.
“Yeah, no. We aren’t doing this.” He closed the distance between us. He leaned in, a whiff of his mint and honeycatching my attention as he took the bucket and watermelon from me.
Frowning and empty-handed, I followed him. “What do you meanthis?”
He stepped through Butters’s gate, setting the food out. He was dressed back in his brown pants and white tunic, and I regretted watching so intently. “We aren’t doing that thing where you act like everything is fine and shut me out.” He closed the gate and walked right past me.
Fuck. He got me there.
We stomped our way to the food storage. I leaned over to get Archie’s bird feed, but he interrupted me. “No, no, no.” He freed my hands, taking them in his. There was a gentleness in his hands on mine, a softness behind his gaze, the flush of his cheeks.
“Talk to me,” he begged. “Please, Reece.”
I wanted to speak; truthfully, I did. However, my jaw clenched tighter than I could undo. Those anxiety cords tightened around my throat and I didn’t know where—I didn’t knowhowto start. Talking things out when we were young came easy, but that was years ago. We were different people. What if I made it worse?
What if I did that thing where I say words I don’t mean? Ones meant to hurt him because I couldn’t accept that I might actually be in the wrong? What if my tone came out rude and hateful, making him shrink?
What if he told me things I didn’t want to hear?
“Okay…” He stared. “Rebecca?” He devoutly watched myeyes and lips. “She needed help with an assignment. She’s been to town with me once when I came back last year and bought the house. I swear to the Gods I didn’t know she was coming—”
For Gods’ sake.“This isn’t about Rebecca,” I assured him.
Clamping his mouth shut, Laken paused. “Then what?”
