Chapter Eighteen
Miriam
Trees swayed ferociously and orchestrated a heartwarming melody of rustling branches that could almost distract me from the weight of Michael’s stare.
I found the man odd. Likeable one moment, completely insufferable the next. I wondered if the traits responsible for his peculiar nature were genetic and, if so, whether Ava’s mate also carried these genes. It would explain her reluctance to forgive him.
The strangest thing of it all was the male before me acted like he had known me for a long time. It was both fascinating and irksome.
‘Seems you’re in a bad mood today.’ He sighed. ‘Don’t tell me it’s because we didn’t find the Crone yesterday. That’s gonna take some time.’
‘It would appear so,’ I kept my reply short on purpose.
Walking several feet in front of me, he looked back and slowed down, blinking slowly when he offered, ‘Want to talk about it?’
The fake smile I shot him usually kept people off my back. ‘Not particularly.’
His mouth opened yet again, so it obviously didn’t work. ‘It could help. Getting things off my chest usually does.’
I squeezed my eyes shut, shadows racing through my veins searching for escape as I forced them into the thinnest slivers I could without causing damage. ‘You’re an open book, huh?’
A small rodent carrying a spider three times its size ran past him, but he didn’t even spare it a glance. Murderous squirrels, now ultra-strong mice… I wondered how it had managed to catch such bounty. Maybe it was venomous… I stepped further away on instinct.
Raising his eyebrows, he pondered resuming the trek. ‘No, but as I said yesterday, I’m not completely closed off either.’
What was it about him that made him feel comfortable throwing little jabs at me? ‘Are you saying I am?’
‘Combative much today? I’ll leave you alone,’ Michael murmured before speeding up and leaving me behind.
Was I rude or was he nosy? Deciding would probably take me until the horrible day ended.
I daydreamed of getting back to the cosy nook in my library to unwind and relax.
The little portable faux fireplace practically called my name, urging me to come back and enjoy the silence and the array of comfort foods I had stashed there.
It was heaven.
But I wouldn’t go there when today’s search finished, at least not immediately. No. I needed to tell Luke what I thought about his childish tantrum. It was embarrassing.
Looking into the gloomy sky, I considered my options.
I couldn’t ask father for his input because he wasn’t objective and frankly knew nothing about healthy relationships.
I also couldn’t discuss the matter with Alec or Ava because they were against my marriage even when Luke was on his best behaviour.
Reluctantly, I opted for the lesser evil. ‘May I ask you a question?’
‘Sure,’ he agreed, his eyebrows slightly raised. Slowing down, he met my pace and walked alongside me.
Swallowing down my pride, I uttered in hopes of gaining perspective, ‘If you were to marry, would you be interested in helping your bride plan the wedding?’
Michael’s shoulders tensed; he stopped mid-step and turned to face me. ‘He doesn’t help you plan it?’
Nightmares help me; could he at least pretend not to be so appalled? ‘I’m asking hypothetically.’
‘Of course you are.’ He recoiled. ‘Well, hypothetically speaking, if I were to get married, yes, I would like to plan the wedding alongside my mate. What’s the point of getting married if only one person is interested in the celebration?’
The perspective he offered made sense. Even so, what mattered to one didn’t have to matter to another. ‘Not everyone cares about parties though.’
‘They do if they’re invested,’ he argued, his face growing more bitter by the second. ‘And even if he doesn’t care about the celebration itself, he should help because it’s important to you.’
‘As I said, it’s hypothetical.' My response resembled a grunt, and his eyes burned into me.
Averting his gaze and looking up as if awaiting divine intervention, he ended up raising his voice as he claimed, ‘It’s supposed to be the happiest day of your mated life. If it’s a chore, maybe it’s a sign.’
‘Of what?’ I scoffed. ‘A sign to stay alone forever?’
The thick leather of his boot struck a brick-sized rock with a heavy thud, sending it tumbling across the ground.
Birds scattered from the nearby trees, bursting into the air in a flurry of wings, guarding one another from the arrogant prince who seemed to think himself the most precious creature in the woods.
‘Staying alone seems a better choice than going for the first available option,’ he blurted, squaring off his shoulders as if in preparation for an attack.
Did he expect a fight? If he thought he could start one, he had another thing coming. Darkness rushed through my blood in anticipation for his next move.
But as I waited for him to throw the punches, nothing happened. I really hoped it wouldn’t. Hurting him would get me in trouble with Ava. ‘How would you know that? You know nothing about me.’
His face remained the picture of forced stoicism, while the hot puff of air leaving his mouth showed he was anything but. ‘You’re right. But I can smell desperation clinging to you and clouding your judgement.’
'Despe—How dare you?’
Jaw tight, he stepped closer. The forest quieted around us, as though bracing for the storm neither of us had yet unleashed.
‘What’s the rush, Miriam?’ he tried to provoke me. ‘It’s not like you’re five hundred years old and hopeless. You’re fae; you’re supposed to mate and not marry a buffoon like Luke just because he’s available.’
I wouldn’t bite. No… he wanted me to lose it, and I wouldn’t. ‘I am partially fae and what makes you think that’s the only reason I’m marrying him?’
‘There is no spark between you two. It’s a mistake, and you know it.' He rushed away, and I couldn’t help flinching at his harshness.
Their opinions were unfounded. Everyone dreamt of different things, and I needed mine finally fulfilled. Time slipped through my fingers, and I was sick of waiting. All of my friends had families already; seeing their happiness made me feel like the odd one out.
For a while now, putting on a brave face wore me out. It never used to take this much effort. Everyone I knew judged me and thought they knew better. It hurt and frightened me. What if I really were making a mistake?
The possibility of finding my fated mate weighed heavy on my soul because what would I do then? Divorce Luke, take the children and get cosy with another man? And what if he found his mate and left me instead?
The overwhelming reality of possibilities and consequences made me lose sleep. All of it was too much for one person to bear.
Rummaging through the backpack Michael must have refilled after jumping back home yesterday, I opened a packet of crackers in hopes of distracting myself.
Salt and pepper wouldn’t be my first, second or even third choice, but I could have made my own supplies and hadn’t.
I chose to make do with what was handed to me.
I nearly finished the pack when, in overly chipper tone, Michael asked, ‘Don’t like them?’
‘Why?’
‘The way your nose scrunches up every time you bite into them,’ he said with a laugh, and with a deep sigh, I decided that maybe I was being a little abrasive. Just maybe.
‘Oh, no, they’re fine.’ I avoided his gaze, deciding to analyse the packet instead. ‘Thank you for packing for us.’
My gratitude seemed to have improved his mood exponentially. ‘Don’t mention it. What flavour do you prefer?’
‘Chocolate or honey,’ I said flatly, hoping he would back off, but the tone of my voice didn’t deter him.
His pace slowed as he waited for me to catch up. ‘Somebody’s got a sweet tooth, huh?’
The amount of effort he put into fixing the awkwardness between us made me give him another chance. ‘You have no idea. I could live without salt but take away the sugar and I will unleash darkness like you’d never seen.’
His stormy eyes lit up. ‘Makes me want to do it.’
‘Do you value your life, boy?’ I warned him, holding a hand on my hip like a mother addressing a naughty child.
‘Boy?’ he yelped before throwing his head back, laughing. ‘Be careful; I might think you’re trying to flirt with me.’
‘I’m trying to be condescending, actually.’
More of his laughter echoed around the woods. ‘Are you always this polite?’
‘Usually,’ I said, considering my predispositions. ‘Does it bother you?’
‘No, but I will enjoy making you loosen up.’ The way he looked me up and down promised trouble.
‘Oh really? And how do you plan to do that?’ I stilled, and he followed suit.
One step at a time, he moved to stand in front of me, his face rocking his signature smug half-smile. ‘Well, well… Wouldn’t you like to know?’
Silly tactic. ‘I’m not easily manipulated.’
‘And I wouldn’t dare manipulate you,’ he claimed in a low tone before continuing the trek and jumping over a massive crater, then looking back in challenge. ‘Don’t wreck your hair, darkling.’
Feeling pressured to prove my competence and strength without making a fool out of myself if I misjudged and fell down, I filled the puddle with my shadows before stepping through it like a bridge.
The man before me gasped, eyes lighting up like I had performed a miracle. ‘That’s awesome. What else can you do with them?’
‘Wouldn’t you like to know, fire boy?’ I replied without missing a beat.
He edged closer. ‘Are you into me or something?’
‘Excuse me?’
‘You keep calling me a boy. I can only assume you’re thinking of turning me into a man?’ he insinuated, scratching his stubble.
Of course. ‘That’s where your dirty mind went?’
‘You’re the dirty-minded one, darkling.’ The deep snigger he released reverberated through my bones, unsettling me. ‘How old do you think I am?’
‘Guessing is pointless isn’t it?’ My arms crossed over my chest. ‘Judging by the fact you’re a spy, I would say at least forty.’
A huff escaped him. ‘That young?’
‘How old are you then?’ I demanded, getting irritated yet again.
‘Ninety-two,’ he said, boasting and straightening his back like a proud peacock.
‘You’re still a boy to me then,’ I shot back, determined to humble him a little. That much confidence in a male never served anyone any good.
Walking away, I sensed the wheels of his mind turning even if I couldn’t see his face. Riling him up was entertaining; I just wished he wasn’t so good at paying me back.
A few feet behind me, he hollered, ‘Are you that old?’
I whirled back, gasping. ‘Don’t you know, you’re not supposed to call ladies that?’
‘And calling men boys is emasculating, unless it’s some sort of kink…’
My blood boiled. He needed to get himself in check, or I would enjoy making him squirm. ‘My nightmares itch to meet you.’
‘Your what? Do you have kids?’ Michael smiled kindly, feigning innocence. I was inches away from drowning him in his biggest fear.
Control yourself. You can’t. He’s Ava’s friend. One, two, three…
‘No,’ I grumbled, walking past him and intentionally bumping his shoulder. Reinforced with my power, I made him stumble, which he obviously didn’t expect.
‘Tell me your age then,’ he commanded from behind me, the hair on my back raising from the proximity as he hovered just behind.
I laughed. ‘So I take your orders now?’
A deep sigh. ‘No, but I told you mine so return the favour.’
‘And what kind of favour is that, boy?’
A crooked smile curved his mouth as his gaze fell to my lips. ‘It sounds so passionate when you say it to me. Do it one more time.’
Gods, what a pervert. I walked away.
‘Chickening out?’ he teased, once again catching up to me. I considered throwing my shadows at his feet to watch him fall. Humiliation went a long way in character development, and boy did he need some.
Pausing by a thick tree with low-hanging branches, I watched his eyebrows raise as he expected an answer.
‘I’m ninety-nine,’ my words echoed between us as I hoped the cold wind could douse my thirst to teach him how to treat a lady.
‘Seriously?’ The bothersome peacock stood ridiculously straight, making me feel far too small. ‘I assumed you’d be over two hundred with how you reacted to my age. And how you carry yourself…’
One, two, three. Don’t kill Ava’s friend.
‘Do you assume much in your life?’ I asked, allowing the distaste I felt to show on my very expressive face.
He inched closer, close enough his breath tickled my forehead. ‘Do you feel this tension between us? Is it sexual? ’ he purred before hiding his hands in his jean pockets for reasons I would rather not know.
Without looking down, I warned him, ‘If I sense you within a foot from me again, I will blast you with shadows.’
Swish, swish, swish—his foot kept dislocating the dried leaves as he stared deep into my eyes. ‘In some kinky dark fae pleasurable way?’
Raising my hands to my face to massage my aching temples, I knew this needed to end. My patience was waning. ‘Okayyy, stop it. I will stop calling you a boy, and you stop this tyranny.’
Michael laughed. ‘And the win goes to—’
I couldn’t help myself…
A small blast of darkness escaped my palm, punching him in the stomach.
‘Okay, let’s call it a tie,’ he said, like he hadn’t just provoked a war.