Page 6

Chapter 6

Theo

I shouldn’t have followed him to the restaurant. I knew that, but the instant he’d closed the door between us, I could feel something in my chest counting down like a time bomb. It was like I could sense every step he took away from me, and each one left my nerves burning brighter, left that fire starting to spark and war in my chest again.

It made things inside me twist, and the anger that tried to claw its way to the surface drove me to my feet before I could think.

I was going to follow him. I was going to hunt him down. He’d done this to me—he’d broken me in a way I hadn’t felt broken before… because he’d made me feel , for just a moment , like I could breathe for the first time.

And now he was leaving me.

I was going to kill him. I wanted to kill him.

But that fury was quelled the second he came into sight, and when my hand brushed his back, the fire extinguished into nothing but smoke.

I wasn’t going to tell him I wanted to follow him because everything hurt when I couldn’t see him. I wasn’t going to tell him about the blackness rolling around in my mind, threatening to consume me.

But I was fine with letting him buy me food at a shitty little diner. It was probably going to be the best meal I’d had in months. I’d been so caught up in trying to survive that I couldn’t remember the last time I’d had something warm in my stomach. Just wrapping my hands around the mug of coffee that the server brought sent soothing streaks up my arms and made me settle into the seat I’d crammed myself into.

It definitely had nothing to do with the man sitting across from me with his purple eyes narrowed and his pretty face set in what had to be a permanent scowl.

“Don’t people notice what a freak you are?” I muttered the question as soon as the server dropped off our plates, with my mouth half full of toast. He was neatly cutting his food into bite-sized portions, and he didn’t bother to look up at me when he spoke.

“No.”

That wasn’t an explanation.

“People don’t just have purple eyes. They don’t just sprout wings. You’re telling me no one cares?”

He finally took a bite of the steak he’d ordered, and waited until he was finished chewing to answer me. So prim. “Most humans can’t see the supernatural. I have blue eyes, and they don’t notice the wings. I’m just an ordinary man.”

I stared at him. His eyes were a violet so deep it made the burning thing in my chest furious, and the image of his wings was still burned behind my lids, even if he didn’t have them out right now.

“Right.” I picked up my fork and started shoveling food into my mouth. It took me a second to realize that Wren had stopped eating and was watching me with his brows drawn together.

I was torn between asking him what he wanted and telling him to fuck off, but he spoke before I could.

“How long has it been since you’ve eaten?”

“I—” I forced myself to stop and swallow before I spoke. “I don’t know. Things have been fucked for the past few days. I told you, I can’t remember much.”

More than a few days.

Things had been fucked for the past few weeks… and they honestly hadn’t been much better before that. But I wasn’t going to tell him that. He was just waiting to cut the line between us so he could finish what he’d started in that alley when he came to kill me.

And maybe he’d had a bit of a reason to do it. Maybe I’d been about to murder those two men, but…

I frowned at the memory of them and the anger that tried to knock around in my chest at just the thought. Somewhere beneath it all, I could realize it had been wrong. I’d killed people before, yes, but… those men had just wanted to help. Even when it was dangerous, and even when it was obvious that they shouldn’t have. My lips turned down in a frown.

“Those guys… from the alley?” Wren’s mouth pinched at the mention of them. “They’re okay? I didn’t… hurt them, did I?”

I didn’t think I had. I’d tried, but…

“They’re fine. I checked on them after I tied you up.”

He looked me over again, and I hated the way it made me feel. It was like he was trying to peel back layers of my skin to see the person beneath, and I didn’t know if he was doing it so he could figure out the best way to break me, or if he actually wanted to understand why I’d asked the question.

“Okay.” I turned back to my food and kept eating, absolutely pissed with myself because I’d slowed down so he would stop staring at me with those judgmental eyes while I did. I hadn’t had to worry about table manners since… Fuck, since I was a kid. And even then… “Are you just going to keep staring at me, or are you going to eat too?” I finally snapped, taking a sip of coffee that was still too hot on my tongue. At least the burn gave me something to focus on that wasn’t the heat of Wren’s stare.

He didn’t say anything, but he did pick up his fork and go back to his steak.

It was better than nothing.

But this was all still… odd. I could feel the tension running between us just as much as I could see that red line, and it was almost as infuriating. I wanted to get up, to leave the building. I was tempted to do just that, but then I remembered the choking, strangling feeling that overwhelmed me the second he’d walked out the door.

I remembered the burn before he’d found me.

I didn’t know if it was possible to hate a person more because of the things they’d shown you, but I was ready to say it was. I despised him for the world of possibility he’d opened up, only to let me know with unwavering certainty that he would rather have seen me dead than let me experience it.

He thought I was a monster.

I hated him because even a fucking cupid could see me for exactly what I was.

Suddenly, the food that I’d been inhaling like it would be my last meal felt sour in my stomach. I sat my fork on the table and frowned.

“What?” How did he notice the instant my mood changed? Was it the line between us? Could he read it more than I could? All I was getting from him was a wall of irritation. Overwhelming irritation and a desire to be anywhere other than here. I couldn’t feel anything else.

It was like he was doing it on purpose. Like he didn’t want me to sense him, to feel anything other than that he wished I hadn’t followed him. That I didn’t exist.

“I can go,” I growled and pushed up from the table. I felt the coolness of his fingers wrap around my wrist before I realized he’d moved. It sent that same streak of calm through me that made me want to leave even more.

It wasn’t fair.

He couldn’t touch me.

He couldn’t make me feel like the world around me wasn’t breaking and still look at me like he wanted to flay me alive.

“Stop it,” I hissed between clenched teeth.

“Stop what?”

“Touching me.”

His fingers on my wrist spasmed at my words, but he didn’t let me go.

“Don’t leave.” When I just stared at him, he added, “I don’t know what you’ll do out there without me. I don’t know if you’ll run into those men again.”

Monster . He wasn’t saying the word outright, but that was the only reason he wanted me to stay. Not because he felt anything when he touched me, but because it was easier to keep me controlled if he kept me close.

“Let me go, Wren.”

His fingers spasmed again, and he glanced down to where they encircled my wrist tight enough that it felt like we might fuse… Or maybe it was just the coolness of him pressing into me, flooding up my arm so each breath of air I took felt like something new, something that wanted to travel through my veins and make me…

What?

Make me pure?

Make me clean?

Make me feel…

Fuck, I didn’t want to feel . Every time I did, every time I tried, it broke me.

“Wren.” I said it again, and fuck me, but my voice was trembling. I didn’t let people touch me. I didn’t like it when people touched me, and this was worse—this was so much worse—because even the angry strength of his fingers threatened to turn my entire world on its head. I wanted to tear his fucking arm off. “Let me go .” My voice was shaking—my body was shaking. “Let me go, please .”

I couldn’t do this.

“Listen, we can—” Wren’s words faded into the background when I saw it. A shining red thread out of the corner of my eye. Not ours.

No.

It was someone else.

The man and woman were holding hands, and they were smiling. They looked so happy, and so in love… and I felt that surge of fury in my chest again. I suddenly had the strength to pull away from him, to wrap my fingers around the knife I’d been holding a few seconds ago and push myself up from the table. Three quick strides brought me across the room, and I could feel that hatred inside me coiling up. The heat trying to burst to the surface.

The fury.

The anger.

The…

Pain.

Pain that lanced through my entire body when my arm was suddenly wrenched behind my back and I was dragged away. Wren just managed to slide his hand over my mouth and yank me into the bathroom before anyone had noticed what I was trying to do.

I couldn’t see. I couldn’t think around that red line that was burning at the back of my vision like a taunt.

It was almost worse now, because I had one too.

I had one of those fucking red lines, and it meant nothing .

We weren’t smiling at one another.

We weren’t holding hands.

And Wren…

Well, Wren wrapped his fingers around my throat and slammed me against the wall. He winced at the impact, but it didn’t matter. The anger on his face, the wrenching disgust that poured across his expression while he stared at me?

It burned more than the line did, more than it ever could.

“Fuck you,” I barely managed to hiss, and I wondered if the only reason he wasn’t strangling me was because it would just hurt him too. From the look in his eyes, it was the only reason he hadn’t killed me already.

I was only alive because he valued his own life. The knowledge made me lean closer to him when I should have pulled back, until I could feel the heat of his breath against my lips, until we were so close a single gasp might have pulled us together.

I wondered… if his fingers around my throat made the fire that had been trying to build turn to nothing more than ash, what would his lips do? What would a kiss do? What would it feel like if—

“You… Fuck, I should never have let you out of the room. I can see it crawling through your eyes. I can feel it trying to eat away at me. You’re nothing but a goddamn—”

His words cut off, and I cried out at the same time. The knife I’d gripped so tightly in my hand was now in his thigh, and I could feel the pain as I twisted it before dropping it to the floor.

“Fuck you,” I snarled again and shoved him back as hard as I could. I could see the reflection of myself in his eyes, and it screamed one word. Monster . I was a monster. “And fuck this. I don’t want your help. I don’t want any of this. I want—”

His fist landing on my jaw cut off my words. He groaned again, but I was the one who went to my knees, my vision fading in and out in a hazy wave. A mixture of the pain, the hatred still burning through me… and then a soothing shot of calm as Wren threaded his fingers through my hair and yanked my head up made the world come in waves.

“We’re going back to the motel room, where you can’t hurt anyone.”

For a second, I thought about getting up and trying to claw his eyes out. I thought about yanking the line between us free.

And I thought about the man and woman just outside the door. I couldn’t see them anymore, but I could feel the coolness and relief of Wren’s skin pressed to mine, even though his fingers were pulling my hair. Even though it hurt.

I let my lids drift shut before I had to examine what those emotions meant.

“Fine.”

I didn’t have to open my eyes to feel the way he was glaring like he didn’t believe me.

“Fine?”

“Yeah, fine. Get me out of here before I see those people again.”

Wren hesitated above me for another second before standing. I didn’t stop him when he wrapped his fingers around my wrists, and I kept my eyes on the ground the entire way out the front door.