He laughed. “Or hell.”
My brows furrowed. “What?”
“What do you mean what?”
“Why’d you say that?”
“Because you said we’re a match made in heaven.”
My heart dropped. “No, I didn’t.”
“Yes, you did.”
“No,” I said. “I thought it.”
His eyes nearly disappeared as his brows dropped into his gaze. “No shit.”
“No shit.” I tugged my cardigan in tighter. “This is…”
“Fucking weird.” He glanced me over. “This is really fucking weird.”
“How do we make it stop?” Chills rose over my arms, and I slid my hands along them to soothe it away. “Will fucking fix it? That’s what started it.”
He laughed.
I didn’t. It was a genuine question. He knew more about the myth than I did.
“Are you serious?”
“Well, I don’t know,” I said.
“What makes you think I do?” He still wore that half smirk, but he huffed. “It’s a myth, Brooke. No one even believes they exist. But considering fucking is how they get their power, no, I don’t think it’ll stop it.”
Damn it.
He laughed. “I mean, if you want to try it, bend over.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Fuck off.”
His smile widened. Another quiet laugh as it slowly dissipated. He went back to looking at the floor. “I don’t know, Brooke. I don’t know what to do.”
Neither did I. But I guessed I’d have to be paying for one of those consultations with a Witch after all.
Declan’s eyes were still on the ground, hand sliding against his chest.
“How’re you feeling?” I probably should’ve asked that sooner. “Are you all healed up?”
His eyes met mine. “Yeah, mostly. Just feels a little tight now. Like an intense workout, ya know?”
I wasn’t very apt for workouts, so not really. “Can I see?”
He lifted up his shirt, and I took a few steps in.
I’d only met a few Werewolves, and I’d never seen them severely injured, so I was curious. When he pulled back the bandage, only a few drops of crimson had tainted the gauze. All that remained on his firm chest was a small, purplish bruise and a speck of dark brown, dried blood.
I traced a finger overtop of it. “If I hadn’t seen it, I wouldn’t believe it.”
He didn’t say anything.