Did he expect a fight? If he thought he could start one, he had another thing coming. Darkness rushed through my blood in anticipation for his next move.
But as I waited for him to throw the punches, nothing happened. I really hoped it wouldn’t. Hurting him would get me in trouble with Ava. ‘How would you know that? You know nothing about me.’
His face remained the picture of forced stoicism, while the hot puff of air leaving his mouth showed he was anything but. ‘You’re right. But I can smell desperation clinging to you and clouding your judgement.’
'Despe—How dare you?’
Jaw tight, he stepped closer. The forest quieted around us, as though bracing for the storm neither of us had yet unleashed.
‘What’s the rush, Miriam?’ he tried to provoke me. ‘It’s not like you’re five hundred years old and hopeless. You’re fae; you’re supposed to mate and not marry a buffoon like Luke just because he’s available.’
I wouldn’t bite. No… he wanted me to lose it, and I wouldn’t. ‘I am partially fae and what makes you think that’s the only reason I’m marrying him?’
‘There is no spark between you two. It’s a mistake, and you know it.' He rushed away, and I couldn’t help flinching at his harshness.
Their opinions were unfounded. Everyone dreamt of different things, and I needed mine finally fulfilled. Time slipped through my fingers, and I was sick of waiting. All of my friends had families already; seeing their happiness made me feellike the odd one out.
For a while now, putting on a brave face wore me out. It never used to take this much effort. Everyone I knew judged me and thought they knew better. It hurt and frightened me. What if I really were making a mistake?
The possibility of finding my fated mate weighed heavy on my soul because what would I do then? Divorce Luke, take the children and get cosy with another man? And what if he found his mate and left me instead?
The overwhelming reality of possibilities and consequences made me lose sleep. All of it was too much for one person to bear.
Rummaging through the backpack Michael must have refilled after jumping back home yesterday, I opened a packet of crackers in hopes of distracting myself. Salt and pepper wouldn’t be my first, second or even third choice, but I could have made my own supplies and hadn’t. I chose to make do with what was handed to me.
I nearly finished the pack when, in overly chipper tone, Michael asked, ‘Don’t like them?’
‘Why?’
‘The way your nose scrunches up every time you bite into them,’ he said with a laugh, and with a deep sigh, I decided that maybe I was being a little abrasive. Just maybe.
‘Oh, no, they’re fine.’ I avoided his gaze, deciding to analyse the packet instead. ‘Thank you for packing for us.’
My gratitude seemed to have improved his mood exponentially. ‘Don’t mention it. What flavour do you prefer?’
‘Chocolate or honey,’ I said flatly, hoping he would back off, but the tone of my voice didn’t deter him.
His pace slowed as he waited for me to catch up. ‘Somebody’s got a sweet tooth, huh?’
The amount of effort he put into fixing the awkwardness between us made me give him another chance. ‘You have no idea. I could live without salt but take away the sugar and I will unleash darkness like you’d never seen.’
His stormy eyes lit up. ‘Makes me want to do it.’
‘Do you value your life, boy?’ I warned him, holding a hand on my hip like a mother addressing a naughty child.
‘Boy?’ he yelped before throwing his head back, laughing. ‘Be careful; I might think you’re trying to flirt with me.’
‘I’m trying to be condescending, actually.’
More of his laughter echoed around the woods. ‘Are you always this polite?’
‘Usually,’ I said, considering my predispositions. ‘Does it bother you?’
‘No, but I will enjoy making you loosen up.’ The way he looked me up and down promised trouble.
‘Oh really? And how do you plan to do that?’ I stilled, and he followed suit.
One step at a time, he moved to stand in front of me, his face rocking his signature smug half-smile. ‘Well, well… Wouldn’t you like to know?’
