I wasn't fond of the jarring shift in our dynamic. I preferred what we had before—trusting friendliness and banter.
Even thoughthatmade no sense, either.
Leveret stood at the lookout point with his back to me. When he looked at the flower, the sight of his shoulders was inviting somehow, like he would've enjoyed my company if I kneeled next to him.
Now his shoulders balled with uncomfortable tension.
I suddenly realized what the oily feeling represented: guilt. It was my fault that Leveret was upset. But why did I care so much? I was a powerful spirit. He was an average mortal. I didn't understand why hurting his feelings made me so remorseful.
I never pretended to be an angel. I'd hurt mortals in the past, and I'd do it again.
So why did I care so deeply aboutthisspecific mortal?
A worm wriggled in my stomach. Leveret wasn't just a mortal, either. He was an alpha. Not a hulking caveman who threw shrieking omegas over his shoulder like sacks of flour, but an alpha nonetheless.
Pushing the tangle of thoughts aside, I approached Leveret. He was an average height for an alpha, yet I stood taller than him.
He stared into the yawning abyss below. He didn't look at me.
"Leveret," I said.
The corners of his eyes flashed with recognition, but he said nothing. His mouth was a thin line and his expression was taut.
My heart dropped. His face looked so different than before. I'd really upset him.
Ignoringwhyhe affected me this much, I pushed on. I had to fix it.
"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that," I murmured. "I was upset. But there was no need to take it out on you."
Leveret faced me. The wind blew his soft-looking hair across his forehead.
"Why were you upset?" he asked.
I thought he'd sayokayand move on. I didn't expect him to turn the focus back to me. All of a sudden, the conversation felt too intimate. Flustered, I cast my gaze into the unknown beneath us.
"You weren't responding to me. You ignored me. And I hate being ignored," I said quietly.
Speaking my feelings out loud was foolish. It was too weak, too vulnerable. Baring your emotions meant baring your soul, and you could never trust a mortal with your soul.
Yet without realizing it, Leveret cracked me open and pulled the admission right out of me.
His expression softened. "Oh." He paused. "I'm sorry, too. I wasn't trying to do that."
A mortal alpha. Apologizing tome.
If I didn't think Leveret was peculiar before, I absolutely did now.
"It's fine," I said, still too flustered to meet his gaze.
We stood in silence as the great clouds of mist skirted around us. It felt like we were alone together in a whole other world. At that moment, I forgot about Leveret's pack and my villainous scheme.
Standing beside Leveret on the cliff's edge, I justwas.
"Leveret," I said.
"Hm?"
"There's nothing wrong with you. I want to make it clear I don't believe that."