Chapter Forty-Four

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Despite my many protests, the sidewalk passed in a blur of motion under my heels. I didn't want to go to the stupid dance anymore, but Micah was insisting. It was the safest place for me to be—around humans—while he headed off to meet the approaching storm. Bettihemae was on the loose, and he wanted to leave me in a public place where she was sure not to risk trying anything.

With a small huff, I crossed my arms when we came to a halt in front of the open gym doors. A cold breeze coming from the west threw my hair in my face, and loud music and high emotions beat from behind.

"You're angry with me," he observed shortly.

I tossed my hair back into place and stared at the yellowing and purple-clouded sky, the atmosphere appearing very much like it had been beaten and bruised. You bet your perfectly toned bottom I'm angry.

I wanted to start yelling, but I shook my head. No, I wasn't going to act like some incoherent child. Closing my eyes, I drew in a slow breath, trying to find my calm. He was fidgeting. I could tell he had to go but was torn. As angry as I was, I didn't want him to leave to face the oncoming low pressure front while there was still this tension between us.

"I need to understand what that was back there. That kiss..." I turned around to find him open but unrepentant. "It was all wrong. You didn't kiss me because you love me. You did it as part of some strategy."

"I was protecting you," Micah told me, a series of emotions playing through his eyes. His soul was twisting with frustration and anger, fear and... loss? The first three emotions I understood, but it was the highly developed sense of loss that puzzled me.

"You think I need protection from Alex?" Blinking once, I watched the grief of his anticipated loss spread to intensify his frustration and fear. Does he think I am going to leave him for Alex?

"Alexander BruLagoon is not strong enough to protect you." I gave Micah a knowing look.

"Well, he isn't," my guardian insisted. He crossed his arms and gazed out at the broken horizon, the winds coming from that direction now smelling distinctly wet. "All that I am," his voice came out steady but strangled. "All I have strived to become, I have done so for your well-being."

"I understand that." I touched his arm. "But this isn't the source of your worry."

At this he paused. He seemed to be searching his emotions to figure out a way to express them.

"You are in possession of a pre-emptive sense of loss," I offered, hoping it would help prompt his inner dialogue.

He nodded, his eyes still on the sky.

"But you must also know I could never leave you," I continued, my hands working over his crossed arms.

His thumbs traced their hum back and forth over my knuckles when our fingers laced.

"And if you don't know it, I am telling you that you should. I need you in my life, Micah."

"I need you, too," he echoed. "It's odd, but it's true. I do have a sense of impending loss, as you put it. You are the only thing I have, you know?"

"I'm your home," I replied, but he shook his head.

"There's actually more behind that sentiment. True as it is, I have clothes on my person and my motorcycle, all these things are to keep up a human façade. But I'm not of human lineage, and I own nothing but the guardianship title I've earned as a devvi, highly regarded as it is. At the end of the day, nothing that makes me who I am holds any real meaning. Nothing is genuine—except you."

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