Page 107 of Balance

“You stopped Damen and Julian from punishing Finn,” Miles said softly, brushing the back of my hair with his fingers. “I don’t think you understand what a huge deal that was, or what that means.”

Not really. Why should Finn have been killed because of something I did?

Now, if they were going to kill him for any other reason? Maybe…

“You keep going back and forth,” he sighed, his fingers stilling. “As much as it pains me to say this, I think you hate Finn, but you really don’t want to so you feel guilty about it.”

My breath caught—he wassowrong.

Iwantedto hate Finn with every fiber of my being. There was absolutely nothing appealing about his arrogant face, the hesitant way he looked at me, his social awkwardness, his smelly socks, or the way he cheated at Old Maid.

Absolutely nothing.

The tight feeling in my chest wasn’t hope, nor guilt.

It was vengeance.

“The reason I’m telling you this is because, in my opinion, Finn represents your belief in humanity. You’ve never been wrong about people, and hewasyour friend for ten years. You chose him for a reason,” Miles said, continuing to spout his delusions. “Why do you think Titus hasn’t killed him yet, and I’ve stepped back? You’re conflicted because deep down, you believe there’s something good about him, something redeemable. It’s your anger that’s blocking your instincts.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

Bianca

Dark

Packing didn’t take very long, considering I only had to dress while Miles tied the blanket across his back. Before long, we were leaving our makeshift camp.

The witch cautiously led me down the rocky incline—which actually was far more treacherous than I’d imagined it to be the night before—using a stick to point out where I was to follow in the moments we couldn’t walk side-by-side.

To my displeasure, he hadnottrusted me with a knife yet—which probably made sense considering I really had nowhere to put it. Leggings didn’t come with pockets or belts and he had both.

Women’s fashion, bah.

“Are we almost there yet?” I asked, pressed against the stone and side-stepping over a particularly narrow portion of the trail.

We had to be, it felt like we’d been risking our lives on this for ages.

“We’ve only been at this for five minutes,” Miles answered, closing his hand over mine as he pulled me onto safer stones. “But we’re almost to the bottom.”

This time, I pulled my focus from my feet, catching sight of his playful grin.

What was so funny?

“What’s wrong?” I asked. The atmosphere was different now. The hair-raising sensations of this morning had long since passed, probably because of all thisexcursion. Since our discussion, he had acted strange: grinning, blushing, taking my weapons away.

It was unnerving. But still, this strangely infectious mood of his was causing my blood to warm.

“Nothing’s wrong.” His lips curled. “Maybe I like spending time with you.”

I would like it too… on the ground.

“You were worried about me,” he said shyly, stepping backward as his eyes remained steady on mine. “It didn’t hit me until later.”

It was only the truth; if that made him blush, how would he feel knowing I couldn’t stand to let him out of my sight for more than a few moments?

He’d probably like that.

Even so, I recalled our earlier conversation and my own skin warmed in response.