Curse of Ferreus

16 - Cold Indifference

Rowan does not give me a moment to process his outburst before he's forging on, his eyes alight and his voice rushed and wavering.

"You're my fated and you're scared and you're alone and I— I need to help you through this. I can't let you face Duskland on your own and I won't leave you to your family. I will not."

Oh fuck.

"I— You... what? What do you—? I don't—" Words stumble and trip over one another. My mind is fractured. Thoughts flit and surge like faulty wiring.

Fated? No, no— that can't be right. He's lying. He has to be. It's another trap.

He gazes at me, his features a map I cannot quite decipher. I search for any hint that he's lying— that he's simply messing with me.

He must read the blinding hesitance in my expression, because his own crumbles. He falls back another step, but this time it isn't so gratifying. "I couldn't be sure, but I am now. I thought, in the alley... but there was so much blood and I wasn't certain. Usually we can smell our fated, but you only smelt of silver and blood until you showered and I knew. I'm only catching hints, but it... it's indescribable—"

"Stop," I manage, my voice shuddering past my lips as I shrink away from him. "Just— stop. Pick someone else. Anyone else."

A startled laugh rushes from him as he tugs a hand through his hair. "I'm afraid it doesn't work like that. It's not that bad, River—"

"It's so much worse."

My family killed Esme for merely being bitten, but to be... And he's an alpha...

Fucking hell. I'm screwed.

Rowan starts for me once again, his hand reaching out for me.

I flinch back and he recoils as though I've struck him.

"I'm sorry," he rushes out, backing up and raising his hands in submission. "I know this is a lot."

I blow out a breath— a sigh, a huff of indignation, I'm not sure. But, at last, instinct gets a foothold. I advance on him a step, my eyes burning with rage. "Touch me again, and I'll cut you."

And with that, I rip open the door and stalk out into the clearing.

Rowan does not give up so easily. I should've known. As an alpha werewolf, he's a stubborn prick.

"I meant what I said about Duskland," he tells me, making absolutely no attempt to conceal our argument for the few werewolves wandering around making the most of the early morning. "You're not fighting them alone. It's too reckless now they know your scent."

They falter to watch, intrigued, and the heat of their attention is a flame to my gasoline temperament.

"And you're going to stop me, are you?" I shoot back over my shoulder, glaring at any werewolves who dare catch my gaze. They're quick to look away, feigning interest in their hands or the woods or the sky.

"I'm going with you."

"You'll only get in my way," I dismiss at once, letting the woods swallow me. Trees hiss and sigh as rustling leaves stir in the air. A picturesque dawn, with hazy shards of sky peeking through the tree canopy. I can't appreciate it. Not when it feels like Rowan has doomed me to an impossibility.

"River, please—"

Twigs snap. My nerves go razor-edged. The hairs on the back of my neck rise and I can feel Rowan's presence at my back like pressure has flipped on itself. He's closing in— reaching for me— I'm certain.