Page 24 of Invidia

God, maybe I was a “pick me” because I absolutely wanted to be picked. I wanted Evrin to claim me, and I wanted to claim him right back.

I wanted everyone to know that this one was mine.

But like Evrin said, that wasn’t what this was.

“I think we should stop doing… this.” I was impressed with how calm and aloof I sounded, though, I had no doubt that my scent was giving me away.

Evrin nodded, resignation written all over his face.

A very large part of me wanted to scream No! I take it back! Whisk me away into the darkness and make me come until I can’t walk, and we can pretend this whole conversation never happened.

But I was already in too deep for that. I’d been all but doodling Mrs. Evrin in my metaphorical notebook. If I didn’t put an end to this now, I was only going to make myself miserable in the long run. More miserable.

“Maybe I was fine with what this was when we first started, but now… I’m just not sure this arrangement is fair on either of us anymore.”

“I see.” I suspected he didn’t, not really, given how cautiously the words were delivered.

But that made sense, didn’t it? Evrin didn’t see why the arrangement wasn’t fair, because Evrin wasn’t emotionally invested in it the way I was.

I released my lower lip, not even realizing I’d been chewing on it, and gave him what I hoped was a convincing smile. “You’re great, you know. You’re funny and hot, and a really gentle, calming presence to be around. If you ever do decide to pursue a relationship someday, she’ll be super lucky because you’re such a catch. I hope you find what you’re looking for.”

“I hope you do too, Tallulah,” Evrin murmured, his gaze lingering for a moment before he inclined his head respectfully and turned away.

Goodbye, I mouthed at his back as he left, my throat too tight to get the word out.

This was the right thing to do. I knew that. Evrin probably knew that—or he’d realize it soon enough. The Band-Aid had to be ripped off at some point, and it was better to do it now than to leave it any longer.

And maybe in a few hours—or days, maybe even weeks—I’d be grateful that I’d made this tough call and appreciate that I hadn’t let these pesky feelings linger. But I sure as shit wasn’t there yet.

Chapter 8

“You seem… in low spirits,” Caius observed, blowing out a ring of smoke and watching me critically. “You sure you don’t want some?” he asked, holding out the pipe for me to take.

“You know I don’t smoke before work.”

“You also don’t usually seem so miserable before work, though you probably should be, considering the circumstances. I can’t think of anything more miserable than your job.”

In the past, I might have disagreed with him, but the in-between was increasingly miserable by the day. Probably because the moment I stepped into the darkness, all I could think about was Tallulah and the memories we’d shared there.

What was she doing right now? Was she thinking about me?

It was pretty unlikely.

Until the missing ex-Hunter was found and returned to the realm, Tallulah’s focus would undoubtedly be solely on her friend. It was selfish of me to even dream that she’d have spared me a thought since that day by the river when she’d ended… whatever it was that we’d had.

“Why’d you even come over?” Caius groused, glaring at me. “I didn’t see you for weeks, and then you finally come back and you’re terrible company today. It’s not like you to be so… emotional.”

“No, I suppose not,” I agreed mildly. There was never space for me to have any emotions that inconvenienced him, but Caius didn’t want to hear that. Long before Roan had sprung an underhanded challenge on Caius, I’d been the unwanted shame of the family, expected to stay out of sight and never complain about the life the goddesses had granted me.

Caius was fifteen years older than me. I doubted we’d exchanged more than a handful of words before his self-imposed exile. Only when he was alone and humiliated, then was I considered worthy of his company.

“It’s really no wonder you’re in a foul mood, lingering in the darkness for all of your waking hours. I don’t know why you do it. It won’t make them respect you, you know.”

“I would never be so bold as to expect that.”

I’d been putting this visit off, but I was glad I’d come here. For a brief moment when I’d woken up this morning, I’d entertained the notion that it was unfair that Tallulah wasn’t mine. That I couldn’t keep her. But Caius was the harsh dose of reality that I needed: I would never be anything more than I was now. That I’d even come as far as I had was solely because I was willing to subject myself to conditions that no other member of the Guard would accept.

If only I hadn’t naively had hopes, if I hadn’t foolishly gotten attached to her, I wouldn’t feel so crushingly disappointed.

---