Chapter 1 #2
I’ve read a few of them, and while mine was for studying how to treat poisonings and obscure health issues, it also describes the effects and signs of different venoms and accidental ingestion of poisonous plants.
If you wanted to kill someone and make it look like an accident, they have all the information you need to pull it off, and while Havoc looks like the kind of man that doesn’t mind getting his hands dirty, if you’re a killer for hire, I imagine sometimes a client wants discretion taking out a target.
The bottom shelf, though, makes me grin.
What to Expect: the Toddler Years, A Mother’s Guide to Mystic Menaces: How to Ground a Supernatural Child with More Power than Patience, Shadow Demons and How to Survive Them.
If nothing else, Havoc Knight is the kind of man that doesn’t run when things get hard, and that says a lot about his character.
The attached bathroom only has one bottle of 3-in-1 bodywash/shampoo/conditioner in it, and if that isn’t proof that only a man showers in there, I don’t know what is.
The single toothbrush on the sink seals the deal, and I walk back into his bedroom feeling like a huge weight has been lifted off my shoulders. No mate.
Well, besides me.
Hope gradually returns and I start letting myself picture it; a life with Havoc by my side.
He mentioned ‘his men,’ so he’s not a bounty hunter like I originally thought, but has other people under his command.
Assassins, maybe? Would also explain why he’s so adamant about none of them stepping foot in his room; it’s got to be hard to let your guard down enough to sleep in his line of work.
I raise an eyebrow and glance up at the ceiling, even though I doubt the Fates listen to the ramblings of mortals. “Real hilarious. An assassin and a healer? You did that on purpose just for shits and giggles, didn’t you?”
Obviously I don’t get a reply, but I learned a long time ago that the world feels a little less lonely when you pretend that there’s some force out there watching over you, even if it’s only to get off on our suffering.
Whatever. I’m sure not every job goes off without a hitch, so my abilities will come in handy eventually, defective as they may be. Let’s just hope his men are good at what they do.
A silver mist in my periphery has me whirling around right as Havoc reappears, and I discreetly wipe my sweaty palms on my leggings.
He scans me from head to toe and lets out a soft, relieved exhale, almost as if he expected something terrible to happen to me in the ten minutes he’s been gone.
My stomach flutters; a girl could get addicted to that kind of attention.
“Welcome home.” I suddenly remember and jolt. “Oh, crap, I dropped my bag before you brought me here. Can we run back and get it real quick before we figure out where we go from here?”
His jaw tics. “No.”
I pause, caught off guard by his sudden abruptness. “Umm, any particular reason? I hate to say it, but it’s literally everything I have to my name. If you need to rest for a while first, no judgement, not much we can do about that. Maybe Ever will think to grab it and we can get it from her lat-”
“You don’t need your bag because you can’t stay here.”
Hurt spears my chest. “What do you mean? Why not?” Did I read the situation completely wrong? Maybe he does already have a mate? “I’m not crazy, right? You saw that mark appear on your wrist, same as I did. We’re fated mate-”
“Not so loud,” he hisses, glancing over his shoulder to the door to his room, and my heart plummets to my stomach.
He doesn't want anyone here to find out about me. I may be his fated mate, so he felt obligated to protect me, but that doesn’t mean he wants me.
Devastation hits me like a wrecking ball, shattering my hopes and dreams like they were made of glass.
I knew better; I really did. But some stupid part of me stubbornly refused to accept what the people in my village have been saying my entire life.
That nobody wants to be saddled with a defective myst. I let all their backhanded comments roll off my back and told myself that I wasn’t the problem, it was the way they viewed the world.
That one day I’d find the place I belonged, surrounded by people that don’t focus on every way I don’t measure up, they just see me.
But even the Fates weren’t able to convince this man to give me a chance.
Slowly, the devastated pit in my stomach morphs into embarrassed indignation, and it’s practically a relief. That I’m used to dealing with. It’s easier to be angry, and like hell am I about to cry over a man that’s willing to throw me away.
I may be desperate to be loved, but I have enough self-respect not to beg for scraps. If he doesn’t want me to stay here? I’m not about to try to convince him to change his mind.
“Understood.” Pivoting on my heel, I storm toward the door.
If I run into anyone, I won’t blow up his perfect, happy family.
If they ask, I’ll just tell them the truth.
He saved me on his last job and didn’t know what to do with me.
Then I’ll walk to the nearest town and ask for a ride and regroup.
That was the plan all along anyway; hitch a ride with Ever and her mates to Mercy Ridge and start actually living a real life instead of hiding away in the supernatural underground compound I was raised in.
“What are you doing?” Crossing the distance between us in a few quick strides, Vic takes hold of my upper arm.
I shoot him a glare. “I can’t stay here, remember? So I’m leaving.”
His nostrils flare as he draws in a deep breath, his free hand curling into a fist at his side. “And draw the interest of anyone that saw you walking out of the guild hall? Absolutely not. I’ll take care of everything, don’t worry.”
My scoff sticks in my throat; I’m too pissed off to even feign humor. Take care of everything but me, he means. No, his fated mate is the thing he has to deal with.
I try to pull away, but that damned silver mist blurs his features and threatens the strength of my stomach as the floor falls out from beneath my feet.
Misting may look cool from the outside, but when you’re the one being transported?
It sucks ass. This trip seems to take an eternity, and the longer I’m stuck with only Havoc’s grip grounding me, the more nauseous I get.
Finally, blessedly, my feet touch solid ground.
“Seriously?” I demand. I swear, he made that trip take twice as long as the previous ones on purpose, and it takes everything I have not to throw up on his shoes. For one brief, petty moment, I actually consider it to spite him.
He doesn’t answer me. Hell, he doesn’t even look at me, turning to Arson instead. “You'll get her settled in Mercy Ridge?” At his son’s nod, Vic offers a terse, “Good.”
Finally, he deigns to look at me again, simply staring like he’s committing my face to memory before disappearing in a silver haze without so much as a goodbye.