Arthur scrubbed a hand over his face. “I’ve had Leonid’s wolf in my teeth all afternoon,” he said, low, “Casimir and some of the other vampires making a ruckus. Dominic telling me I’ve betrayed him. I’m not exactly at my best. You can’t—”
“It’s fine,” she said quickly, cradling her fist to her chest, “I shouldn’t have sprung it on you.”
She spun on her heel, making to walk away, when he reached out to grab her elbow, “Wait, Dani,shit, can we just talk about this?”
“There’s nothing to talk about,” she said, voice frosty. Perhaps she was being childish. But she couldn’t help it. She had hoped,patheticallyhoped, that this was something she could share with him. That he’d be excited with her.
Obviously, she was wrong.
“I’m sorry,” he said, not letting go of her arm, “I didn’t mean to pull away. It’s just…fire, you know? Not exactly stable.”
Her eyes stung, and she swallowed a painful lump in her throat.
“I know,” she said bitterly, “fire is dangerous.Witchesare dangerous. I’ll keep my magic to myself.”
Yanking her arm out of his grip, she stalked down the corridor. For a beat, he stood motionless behind her, before the creak of floorboards signaled his advance. “That’s not what I want!”
She stopped abruptly, magic roiling in her stomach, brows drawing together. “And you think it’s what I want?” Spinning around, she closed the distance between them. He stood, arms open, face contorted in frustration and longing, like all he wanted to do was take her in his arms and make it all better.
She was tempted. Tempted to fall into his arms, to drop her grievance, to acknowledge it for the childishness it was.
But it wasn’t. It went deeper than the sting of his fear. It was older, a wound that had never healed.
She was done ignoring it.
“You know,” she said, stopping just short of his embrace, voice wobbling, “the first time you flinched from me was when we were eleven years old. It was a pack barbecue, remember? The first one, my parents had let me attend. I saw you with all the other kids, and I ran up to say hello. After all, why shouldn’t I? We’d been friends for years, sneaking out into the woods, building forts, going swimming. I was so excited to see you. But you… when you saw me… You flinched.”
His hands had closed into fists, his face growing stony.
She pressed on, dashing away her tears of frustration, “It was because of the others. The other little alphas-to-be. Myfamily was hardly in good standing. I learned then that you would never stand by my side, not in front of everyone.”
“It was more complicated than that-”
“And then we grew up,” she interrupted. She’d started now. She was speaking the words. Her deepest hurt. And she wouldn’t be able to stop. Not until every last drop of poison had finally been drawn from the wound. “You shifted. I didn’t and things got worse.”
“I know they did,” he said, “Iknow. And as I’ve said, I’msorry-”
“I can’t do this,” she said, “I just can’t. I fit into the mold you wanted me to fit into when we were younger, when I was a pack outcast. I made that mistake once and I won’t do it again.”
“Dani,” he said, teeth grinding together, “this doesn’t need to be some big thing. I flinched because you lit a bunch of flames in my face. That doesn’t mean I want you to not be who you are!’
“So what? You’ll accept my magic so long as I keep it to cutesy little spells? Brightening the flowers, cleaning the dishes, making butterflies appear. I’m afirewitch. I received that gift when I mated you. How do I know that you won’t spend your whole life fearing it?”
“Maybe if you’d give me achance—”
“You want me to live my life justhopingyou’ll accept me?”
“I do accept you!”
“Do you?”
“Yes! You’re my mate, of course I do!” His words came out nearly as a yell, his muscles shaking, blue eyes narrowed and piercing. She knew she was pushing him.
She didn’t care.
“And yet, deep down, if you were beingtrulyhonest with yourself, you’d admit that you wish I weren't a witch.”
He bared his teeth, “I’ve never said that.”
