Page 52 of Whispers of Wisteria

“Oh.” Her expression turned thoughtful. “Does that mean you heard what I was thinking about your wings?”

White pain laced through my back, and I pulled away, dropping her hands, realizing a second too late how my reaction could be taken.

She blinked rapidly and lowered her gaze to the table. “S-sorry.”

“No.” I shrugged my shoulders, brushing away the memory. It’d lingered still, and I should have been used to it, but the injury would never heal, even after being reborn.

But that was because, as Damen stated, it wasn’t really an injury at all.

It was a curse. A reminder of the time I’d failed to protect the one who mattered most.

Bianca, more than anyone else in the world, had the right to ask about it.

“Don’t be sorry.” I closed my hands over hers. “It’s just not a pleasant memory.”

“Sorry,” she said again. I’d almost rather she be angry at me.

“Stop,” I told her. “It happened a long time ago.”

“Oh,” she said softly. “What else did you hear?” she asked, changing the subject.

“You were thinking hilarious things about Miles,” I began, my spirits lifting at the memory of her inner dialogue. She was way more entertaining than I expected. “And that you liked my plaid.”

“I do not…” Bianca began to protest, but then she stopped, her face reddening. “Fine, maybe I like the plaida little.”

“You’re overly concerned with the nature of my work.”

Her eyes shone in embarrassment. “It could be dangerous!”

“And I know you’re a woman with standards,” I offered. “So you have no intention of asking me half the things you want.”

“Oh my God.” She covered her face.

“The pointis—” I pressed my foot against hers. I waited for her to peek at me through the gaps between her fingers before I continued. “—we’re eventually not going to beableto keep secrets from each other.” It pained me to admit it, but it was true. “Even if we wanted to.”

She was silent momentarily before adding, “But we shouldn’t want to,” in a near whisper.

“No.” My heartbeat was loud in my ears. “We shouldn’t. We should always be honest about what we feel.”

Bianca wasn’t the only one headed into unfamiliar—and uncomfortable—territory.

The room grew louder, and the air colder. The waitress came then, taking our orders with a familiar professionalism that helped calm my racing thoughts.

We’d all kept our secrets—a burden that became heavier with every life. And Bianca, to my knowledge, hadn’t even gotten close to uncovering the depth of hers.

But as for me…

I remembered more than most.

“I’m afraid to have sex,” Bianca blurted out, staring hard at my hands.

I jerked back, blinking at her.

“I’m telling you my secret.” She was trembling, hands pressed into her lap but pressed forward. “You wanted to t-talk about our relationship. So—so that’s what you can expect.”

“Bianca…” I wasn’t sure what to say.

Did she think that was a secret? We’d just gone over this.