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“Thank you for finding the coin and bringing it to my attention, Tate,” Camus dragged his fingers through his dark hair.
I tried to shrug. “No problem.”
“With this new information, I’ll need to revise our safety protocols for the entire pack.” He sighed and rubbed the center of his forehead. “I really don’t like demons or other nightworlders roaming our territory whether or not they have anything to do with the vanishing shifters.”
Fane nodded and then shoved me onto the porch. Silence stretched through the neighborhood as we trekked down the alpha’s driveway and headed to the Anders’ home. Fane finally released me, but anger pulsated from him, and the tension solidified between us.
“Don’t let her antagonize you,” he said, breaking the heavy silence.
I scoffed. “Sorry if I reacted when she called you—that. I couldn’t help it.”
“It doesn’t matter what she says.”
My eyes narrowed. “When Dorian called me a bitch, you were ready to pulverize his bones to dust.”
Fane rolled his shoulders, his jaw ticking. “The shit between Dorian and me runs deep. Wewillfight one day if he keeps pushing me.”
“Are you still hung up on Marissa?” My stomach twisted just thinking about them together.
His brows dipped. “Of course not.” He pulled me to a stop, his head tilting as he studied me. “Don’t be jealous of her.”
“I’m not.”Lie!Maybe I was a little. “She was your fated mate. You don’t just get over something like that.” Without thinking, I grabbed Fane’s hand, and a swell of emotional pain flooded from him.
I didn’t hesitate to pull at that anguish, taking it into myself and lessening his burden. He’d been hurt beyond comprehension by the one person the universe picked for him. When Marissa rejected him, the small amount of hope he’d been clinging to shattered into a million pieces.
She’d ripped away his chance of finally belonging somewhere instead of being torn apart by his two worlds, shifter and demon.
So much fucking hurt dwelled in him. My chest threatened to cave in from the weight of it.
Fane yanked his hand away, cutting off the flow of his emotions and pain. “Don’t do that.”
My hands shook as I shoved them into my jacket pockets. “It’s okay whenyoudo it, butIcan’t?”
“It’s not the same.” His nostrils flared as a luminescent glow permeated his irises. “I don’t want you in my head or involved in my emotions. They’remine.”
“See, Maverick?” I choked down the lump in my throat and sucked back the tears from taking his pain. “This is how it feels to have you in my headall the time.” I shoved by him and stomped down the sidewalk to get away as fast as I could.
* * *
I kickedthe covers off and flipped on my front, punching the pillow to puff it up. The red numbers of the digital clock on the bedside table read two in the morning. I’d been tossing and turning for the last hour while the ancient power of the Infernal Sol roiled within me.
The demon amulet wasn’t an inanimate object. It was alive, pulsating with power and its own consciousness that wanted to meld with mine. The blood-red sun stone was a parasite burrowed inside a host.
Fighting with Marissa had given it a hard poke and jolted it awake. The thing didn’t want to go back to sleep. It longed to slither forward, take control, and have some fun.
The Infernal Sol’s idea of fun didn’t mesh with mine.
Mostly.
I wouldn’t mind sneaking into Marissa’s house and rearranging her face for treating Fane so horribly. No one got to insult him except me.
My skin was hot and tight, and my insides felt too large like they were stuffed inside of a sausage casing, tossed in an oven, and on the verge of bursting out. With a groan, I rolled off the bed, the hardwoods like ice against my bare feet, and shoved a tank top over my sports bra. No one would be up at this hour, but I’d rather not prance around in a bra and little cotton shorts.
After quietly padding down the stairs, I hurried to the kitchen, opened the fridge, and grabbed the pitcher of lemonade. Would Fane pass on any other preferences to me besides this? One day, would I wake up and crave being a prick for no reason like him?
I snatched a coffee mug out of the drying rack on the counter and poured a glass of ice-cold deliciousness. The chilly counter pressed against the bare skin between my shirt and shorts as I leaned against it and gulped my lemonade, smacking my lips from the tartness. Would Fane march down the stairs at any moment to find out why I wasn’t sleeping?
The jerk really knew how to piss me off. He wanted to pry into my mind and my secrets, but he turned into an unruly brute when I asked him anything.
