Page 72 of The Immortal’s Mark

The muscle in his jaw ticks. “So you are saying if Thane never found you in that library, if you were never thrown into our world, you would have broken up with the mortal?”

“Stop calling him that,” I snap. “And stop acting like this.”

“Acting like what?”

I wave an angry, trembling hand in his direction. “This. You’re repentant and then indifferent. Dismissive, and then you make out with me.”

My cheeks heat, but my ire grows with each breath I take. I keep going before Des can interrupt.

“You stay away for weeks after insisting that we can’t be together. Even though we both know what we are to each other. And I am so tired of it.”

I shake my head and continue. “You don’t want me. I get it. Message received and accepted. Now, I just need you to stop being so damn confusing while I’m already dealing with everything else in my life.”

My chest heaves as I suck in breaths.

Des stares at me, mouth slightly ajar, until he snaps it closed. “It was a mistake to bring up this conversation.”

“Clearly.”

His stare lingers.

I meet it, refusing to back down. Refusing to let this confusing Immortal weasel his way into my thoughts any more than he already has.

He’s made his position clear.

I’ve accepted it.

The honorable thing for him to do would be to leave me in peace so I can figure out every other aspect of my tumultuous life without worrying about my connection to an Original Immortal who doesn’t want me.

“I didn’t intend to pick a fight.”

Some of my anger abates. “I know.”

“Despite what you may think, I do care about your well-being.”

Tears burn the back of my eyes. “I know that, too.”

He stands. “I will leave you to recover. Though I suspect the others will be in shortly to see for themselves that you are on the mend.”

I bite the inside of my cheek, resisting the nagging urge telling me not to let him walk out like this—insisting that we should clear the air.

Des remains at my bedside, gazing down at me with an expression I don’t try to decipher, but there is no missing the turmoil flickering in his hazel eyes—turmoil that I’m certain matches the storm in my own eyes.

He leaves without another word.

And I let the tears fall.

I’m caught in the middle of an Immortal War. My mortality is changing, and my magical powers are awakening, causing me indescribable agony.

But my relationship with Des, if I can even call it that, is undoubtedly the most agonizing problem in my life.

We’ve gone from strangers to forced allies, to willing allies, to potential lovers, to whatever the hell we are now in such a short amount of time.

Every step forward is followed by monumental strides back.

Every flicker of hope is extinguished under his fancy boots.

I can’t do it.