The Beastkeeper's Bride

12: Bellarina's Equivocalness

12: Bellarina's Equivocalness

─── · 。ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

There was anger convalescing with the intrigue, but Blayne could scarcely focus on any of it while he endeavoured to sort through the cacophony filtering through his thoughts.

The woman before him stiffened, her eyes widened in horror, and then her hand slapped to her mouth. Did I say that aloud? My voice has returned? No, I am sure it has not but then he must have heard me but how? Oh GOD he heard me thinking about his arse!

Her mind's voice was sweet, naively compelling in its ignorance of the havoc her consciousness was causing his, and Blayne struggled to control the flux of it for a moment. She would not know how to channel and monitor the connection of their thoughts that had materialised suddenly due to some enchantment she had embroiled herself in. "Millie," he began slowly, through gritted teeth, "you need to shut up."

He wants me to shut up and I am not even talking! Oh, shit, does that mean- oh, shit, he heard me say shit-

"I can hear you," he said, clenching his eyes shut against the intrusions fluttering chaotically around him, "and feel you." And you can hear me.

At his softer, less wildly uncontrolled projection, Millie's eyes looked about ready to pop out from her face entirely and she leapt to her feet, her skirts shifting over her limbs enticingly. Deliberately provoking, Blayne allowed a thought of appreciation to slip through to her, the effect of her wearing clothes gifted to her from one of the fae stirring him profoundly once more.

Stop that! She ineffectively attempted to tug the fabric over her exposed limbs, shooting him warning glares through the damp locks of hair that fell over her blistering eyes.

"You need to calm down," Blayne told her firmly.

Calm down! CALM down? You are in my head! What devilry is this? Even in her mind, the sound of inarticulate frustration was clear and she stamped her foot outwardly. Have you done this?

"Me!"

She gave him a very put out, shrewdly assessing look. Was it the fruit? The bread! Her mouth dropped open in shock. It was the tea, wasn't it! Admit it! You- you poisoned me and did this!

"Gods, when you have your voice are you also this vocal?" he grumbled, tossing the half-eaten apple core into the grass where a bara would no doubt jump upon it in no time. He rose to his feet fluidly and advanced upon her, knowing that if he didn't help her to lessen her thoughts, he'd never get a moment's peace again.

How dare you!

"I have no reason to listen to your thoughts, Millie," he pointed out calmly. "I do not even have the ability to contrive such magic, even if I desired it."

You don't? But then- Her thoughts did go silent then and a blinding realisation rippled over her lovely features, following closely by a vehement anger.

"Do you know what has caused it?" he demanded.

Her eyes pummelled him with a look so full of seething rage he was sure that if the woman before him had an iota of fae in her, she'd be able to implode them both. Yes.

"What, then?"

I cannot say.

"I thought you said you knew what-"

I am prevented from saying, she clarified with a hateful little shake of her head. Her fists were clenched together at her sides and her chest was heaving in her turmoil. I'll kill them both!