Page 41 of Stalked By Seduction and Shadows

“I’m scared, but no, I’m not surprised,” I admitted. “Things like this happen to me sometimes.”

“Do they?”

My skin grew itchy, uncomfortable under the weight of her probing eyes. She was going to think I was bragging. That I deserved the things that had happened to me, especially after I told her how I intentionally drew attention and used it for my own benefit.

Even though my talents had kept Isabella alive, she’d hated them, and by extension, she’d hated me too. Shame enveloped me, and I worried if Snow could see my darkness. The parts of myself that I didn’t understand—the ones that made me different from my family, my peers, and my entire village. The unbelonging that threatened to swallow me whole.

And worse still, the fact that I enjoyed my own darkness, enjoyed the pleasure I gleaned from using the power that made me at once both predator and prey.

Did Rune feel the same way about his shadows? At the image of his face in my mind, I nearly shuddered at its cruel beauty.

“Can you see my aura?” I asked Snow, deflecting her question.

She hesitated a moment, and my stomach dropped.

“It’s strange,” she said. “It’s hard to see.”

I tensed, bracing for a reading that revealed my true nature and scared my new friend away.

She smiled. “There’s a lot of different colors gathered around your throat, like you’re a creative or an artist, and you’re gifted in something that has to do with language or voice. Perhaps singing?”

I shrugged. “I’m not sure I’m talented. I sing to myself sometimes. But I’ve always loved music.”

“You’re amazing with words too, like with patrons at Odessa,” she said, her eyes lighting up. She still gave no indication that my seduction games bothered her. “But there’s a big block, over your heart, and I can’t even see anything below that.” She traced her hand from the center of her own chest lower, stopping just below her belly button before it fell idly to her side.

Her eyes glazed over, her forehead scrunching in concentration. “Have you experienced any?—”

She seemed to suddenly come back into herself, quickly setting her coffee mug back on the table and swallowing. “Wow, I’m sorry. Got lost in my witchy senses and forgot that it’s maybe, just maybe, not the best move to pry into people’s shit when they don’t know you very well.”

I cringed. “Just tell me,” I said. “Is there something wrong with me?”

Snow made a little high-pitched noise. “Oh my Goddess. No, Scar. No. I was going to ask if you’d been through something traumatic, because sometimes trauma can do wonky things with our energy and a witch’s ability to read it. But that’s an entirely inappropriate thing to ask. So you absolutely shouldn’t feel obligated to answer.”

“Oh,” I said thoughtfully. For a moment the gray, empty place loomed, but I was quick to sidestep and stay here in the present. “I did lose my parents when I was fairly young, and my sister and I struggled to keep the family cottage and be there for each other.”

Snow reached for my hand, and I had to force myself to allow her this tender touch. “I’m really sorry for your loss. You can always talk to me about it, or anything else, if ever you need. I lost my father when I was young, too. I know how alone grief can make you feel.”

I stared at her hand on mine. This was the strange thing about touch and comfort, closeness and vulnerability. When confronted with everything I’d ever wanted, everything I’d lacked from my parents, from Isabella, from my small community—I ran from it. Even with Jaxon, I struggled to give and receive the warmth and tenderness we’d forged in our long friendship.

I didn’t know how to receive the love I needed. Maybe that was why it always existed out on the horizon—in other lands, in people I hadn’t met, in a future that was always one step out of reach. Because great love was this thing that existed only conceptually, only in the abstract. It wasn’t something I ever truly thought I’d have, deep down. Though I wanted it terribly—to fill all the cracks in my aura, burst through the blocks, and prove that I was worthy.

When my eyes pooled with tears, I remembered how Isabella would yell at me for crying, for feeling too deeply, uselessly, at the most inopportune times.

“Can I give you a hug?” Snow asked.

And I was too embarrassed and annoyed with myself to say no, so I moved into her arms and let her hug me. I leaned into her comforting lavender and rosemary scent, accepted her warmth into my skeptical, confused heart.

She pulled away. “Me and some friends are going to a rally tonight. You’re off tonight, too, right?”

When I nodded, she continued.

“You should come with us. It’s a rally against human trafficking, to demand the turned crack down. More and more humans are going missing, even some witches and shifters too. We’re supposed to be protected here, but the city is becoming less and less safe every day.”

“Human trafficking,” I repeated, fire stoking my blood. “You’re not worried that being spotted at this protest might cost us our jobs?”

She shook her head. “Most of the staff will be there. I talked them all into it. Rune needs to know that we all see what is happening—that we’re all scared of being next. Especially anyone working at his clubs, who are all exactly the type of mortals that traffickers go for.”

At the resolute ferocity in Snow’s eyes, all other thoughts melted away. I felt her passion light both of us up, bathe us in this heavenly glow as if Helia and Selena themselves were on our side.

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