Magic Burns

Page 137

 

 

 

“Let’s find out.”

 

He squared his shoulders and headed in my direction. Houston, we have a problem. Judging by the look in his eyes, a kick to the face simply wouldn’t faze him.

 

“I can stop you with one word,” I said.

 

He swiped me into a bear hug and I got an intimate insight into how a nut feels just before the nutcracker crushes it to pieces. “Do,” he said.

 

“Wedding.”

 

All humor fled his eyes. He let go and just like that, the game was over.

 

“You just don’t give up, do you?”

 

“No.”

 

The magic drained again. A dull ache flared across my back—must’ve landed harder than I thought. The ache spread to my biceps. Thank you for the squeeze of death, Your Majesty. I slumped against the wall.

 

“Why are you hell-bent on their wedding?”

 

I rubbed my forehead, trying to wipe away fatigue and this conversation. “You really want to know?”

 

“Yes. What is it, guilt, revenge, love, what?”

 

I swallowed. “I live alone.”

 

“And your point is?”

 

“You have the Pack. You’re surrounded by people who would fall over themselves for the pleasure of your company. I have no one. My parents are dead, my entire family is gone. I have no friends. Except Jim, and that’s more of a working relationship than anything else. I have no lover. I can’t even have a pet, because I’m not at the house often enough to keep it from starving. When I come crawling home, bleeding and filthy and exhausted, the house is dark and empty. Nobody keeps the porch light on for me.

 

Nobody hugs me and says, ‘Hey, I’m glad you made it. I’m glad you’re okay. I was worried.’ Nobody cares if I live or die. Nobody makes me coffee, nobody holds me before I go to bed, nobody fixes my medicine when I’m sick. I’m by myself.”

 

I shrugged, trying to keep my voice nonchalant. “And most of the time, I like being by myself. But when I look into my future, I see no family, no husband, no children. No warmth. I just see myself getting older and more scarred. Fifteen years from now I’ll still drag my beaten, bloody hide to my place and lick my wounds, all alone, in a dark house. I can’t have love and family, but Crest and Myong have a shot at happiness. I don’t want to stand in the way.”

 

I glanced at Curran and saw something in his eyes—understanding? sympathy?—I couldn’t tell. It was there for a brief moment and then he pulled his mask back on, and I was greeted with the impenetrable face of an alpha.