Page 33 of Enemy turned Mate

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“Anne, are you that cowardly that you would refuse to even listen to me?”

It hit the mark and had her stopping in her tracks, eyes glaring daggers at him. But it worked as she stayed still, and perhaps it wasn’t a good idea when they were in an area where no thick trees protected them. But there was no going back, not when he had her attention.

“You made a mistake. People make mistakes.”

“My mistakes cost me my clan.”

“I know it did. I know it killed a part of you that you may never get back. I know the guilt eats you up and you would give anything to turn back time. But the truth is, you can’t turn back time. You can only move on, and you have tried to do so for the past three years. You slept, ate, acted on automaton. And then you didn’t.” When she didn’t leave yet again, he risked a step closer. “You felt something. For those campers. For me. For my clan. A part of you is still alive and ready for something new, but not until you let go of the past.”

Her gasp was inaudible in the roaring rain, but he felt it. He was ready when she backed a step, taking her wrist and easing her back.

“It’s not that easy,” she said, a note of desperation in her tone.

“I know.”

“It broke me. It broke me inside out.”

His heart broke for her voice, so small and vulnerable. But he felt the drumming inside and knew what was building up.

“And it will never be easy unless you let it out.”

“How?” she hissed. “How do I let out something that was locked up so tight? How do I get over a secret that shames me every day of my life?”

“Shout it out. Kick something. Use me. Punch me if you must. Just let it out, and don’t let it fester inside you. Don’t let it consume you anymore.”

“Nico—”

“Scream. Scream, Anne.”

She looked at him as if he was insane. The withdrawal didn’t come as Anne planted her feet wider—and in one single exhale, she shouted with all her might as thunder boomed repeatedly. It drowned out the sound of more shouts, but he felt it in every fiber of his being, ricocheting through the small, secluded space. When the shouts were over, she kicked the nearest tree trunk, then threw rocks at it. Then she swiveled back to face him.

Wide eyes stared at him, lost and deflated after her physical release. Nico knew he should give her space then, but he couldn’t help opening his arms. He also couldn’t help the sound he made when she stepped in it and accepted the embrace, then sank into it as if all her strength had left her. The rain kept on, a force that battered down on them and their surroundings. He didn’t let go and didn’t move. Neither did she.

And it felt like a release of its own.

***

“I don’t think Daria’s coming, but it’s just as well. She thinks celebrations are overrated and has had enough with the ones they threw when they were trapped in their dimension.”

That was a whole other story that involved crazed Fae and unhinged curses, and Nico could already picture just what kind of sordid feasts had been thrown in Daria’s world. Charlie was unfazed, perhaps the only one who knew everything aside from the Bennett who had married Daria’s Fae King.

“Hey, glad to see you here! Come join us, Anne.”

The name had Daria and her story leaving his mind entirely as he glanced at where the sound was and found Anne sitting in the space that Rosalia patted beside her. They offered her a drink, which she hesitantly took while she curled in on herself. No one minded as they continued their conversation. To his surprise, she didn’t seem to mind, either, content to listen in and seemingly determined to blend in.

He wondered if she remembered her past and the celebration that had led to tragedy. As if sensing his stare, she tilted her head to meet his gaze, a shyness that told him she wasn’t used to revealing a huge part of herself to anyone. But she had revealed it to him…and now she was smiling, shyly and briefly, before she returned her attention to the group surrounding her.

Things were fine between them, but it didn’t give him the authority to keep looking at her. It took an effort to cut the connection and look elsewhere until his gaze landed on Michael, who stood at the edge of the clearing and was agitated. He couldn’t see who Michael was talking to, and his brother ventured out before he could observe some more.

“Are you on duty tonight?” Charlie asked.

“No.” Nico debated within. “But it doesn’t hurt to check around.”

“I can help—”

“No, stay here. Enjoy the night. I got this.”

Charlie settled in, not about to contradict the offer to relax. Nico crept out of the main hub and checked around as he had said, but it was more a sensing of things rather than actively finding some open threat. Voices flitted in his ears: the muted laughter and clinking of goblets, the quiet conversation of people just bonding. A moan in the distance signaled that not everyone was down to celebrate with the crowd, and he stifled a chuckle when the thumping of a wooden shed accompanied the sound. He tried to sneak past them, but the door opened, and two figures stumbled out before he could leave.


Tags: J.S. Striker Paranormal