Page 238 of Infernal Secrets

My amusement died when I realized his anger was genuine.

I shrugged. “Might as well have. And honestly? What does it matter?”

He paced, combat boots thudding on bare hardwood. “It matters,” he mumbled so low I wasn’t sure I was meant to hear it.

“You said yourself you don’t have to accept a bond, so we can just ignore each other and be fine. I won’t get in the way of your relationship with Zeke. I already told you I wouldn’t.”

“This isn’t about Zeke,” he snapped, turning toward me again, lowering his voice. “This isn’t about him.”

If it wasn’t about Zeke, then it came down to his inability to trust me. If there were more lies in my bloodline, I didn’t blame him—but I didn’t have to tolerate his volatility.

I didn’t grow up with his customs. Being bound to someone through magic wasn’t a human thing. Even if I wasn’t fully human now, I’d lived like one for twenty-three years.

A label didn’t mean I needed to be around someone who didn’t like me.

I crossed my arms, needing to hear the words, leaving no misunderstanding between us. “Then what’s it about? That you don’t trust me? I can’t do much about that.”

Maybe it made me a masochist, but I looked forward to sparring with him when he didn’t cross into cruelty. I liked his sarcasm and wit. Sexual attraction aside, I sensed more beneath the surface.

I saw more than he realized he let me see.

If I set aside all the times he lashed out, I saw someone who cared deeply.

After everything, he still asked how to help me get ready to leave.

He saved my life. Held me after Grandma’s funeral—even when I didn’t realize it. I wanted to believe he did it to comfort me.

I loved seeing how he took care of Zeke. If that had been my first impression of him, I’d have swooned and developed a crush like a teenage girl.

He ruffled his hair in frustration before gripping the back of his neck with both hands, oblivious to my internal war. “I don’t want to want you.”

I looked away from him, mumbling. “That makes two of us.”

He dropped his arms. “What?”

I shook my head, staring at the floorboards.

“No. You don’t get to do that.” He stepped toward me. “You didn’t let me do that.”

“I said, ‘That makes two of us.’”

If it weren’t so sad, I’d have laughed at the confusion on his perfectly sculpted face.

I turned away and started dropping the makeup I wanted to keep into a box. “Can you make sure Ash didn’t pack the baking dishes with the little blue flowers? I want to take them with me. They belonged to Grandma.”

Cyn’s arms slid around my waist, his hard body pressing to my back, making me flinch. Soft lips brushed my nape.

I closed my eyes. “What are you doing?”

“I don’t know.” His hold tightened, and he kissed the soft spot between my shoulder and neck, voice dropping to a whisper. “I don’t know.”

I didn’t want to surrender to his touch, but I couldn’t lie to myself and say it didn’t settle my heart to be on the receiving end of his affection, even if neither one of us understood why.

If it was the Nyrith tether, then we’d have to resist. I wouldn’t be with someone only because magic manipulated my heart.

But Ash told me the Nyrith tether didn’t force feelings. It amplified existing feelings; it didn’t fabricate them.

It explained why the pull toward Ash and Zeke was strongest. I knew them best, and I liked what I’d learned.