Page 32 of Taste of Fate

The closeness of him, and the circumstances of how we last spoke, made me painfully aware of my pulse thrumming through every blood vessel. Damn him for making me self-conscious of physical responses I had no control over.

“I’m okay,” I said, forcing deep breaths to make my heartbeat slow down. “I saw another addict. Someone in really bad shape and it spooked me.”

Cyan pulled away, crossed the kitchen to grab an empty glass, which he filled with water and set in front of me.

“Thank you.” Damn him for being thoughtful. If even sweet.

“Tell me what happened. Where did you go?” Cyan crossed his arms over his bare chest, his tone leaving no room for argument.

“I needed more grapes for one of my wines, so I went to the market. On my way back there was this guy, a vampire out in the middle of the street in broad daylight.”

Cyan’s face fell. “Fuck. How did he look?”

I described the state I saw him in and Cyan looked more exhausted with each passing second. “That’s the draitrium, right? The drug that other guy was trying to push.”

“Yeah, that’s it.” Cyan blew out a long breath and scrubbed a hand down his face. “I know exactly who you’re talking about, and I’m sorry you had to see that. His name is Pyke. The clan has tried to get him cleaned up multiple times. He’s harmless as far as we can tell. Just gets stoned out of his mind and spends hours looking at the sky. We usually find him right after dusk, bawling his eyes out because the beautiful sun is gone.”

“Oh, that’s awful. That poor man.”

Cyan shrugged and shook his head in a what can you do? motion. “We’ve done all we can for him. He’s refused to tell us who he buys from but he’s not violent, nor has he tried to sell to anyone else, so we just leave him be. It’s sad, honestly.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. “It must be hard to watch people destroy themselves, knowing you’ve already tried everything to help.”

He rubbed a hand over his head and heaved out a sigh. “You’ve got that right, Tavi.”

I finished off my water, my brain scrambling to fill in the awkward silence. Should I just make an excuse to go? This was the most conversation we’d had in weeks, and Cyan definitely didn’t intend to end up in the same room as me. He probably dreaded having to talk to me at all, especially since my distracting heart rate had been elevated when I walked in.

“I’ll just um?—”

“I owe you an apology.”

We spoke at the same time, and then stared at each other.

“What?” I said.

Cyan sighed out a long breath, idly scratching the side of his chest where he’d made his vow to me. The scars were completely healed but still looked fresher than the right side.

“I shouldn’t have yelled at you the other night when we were training.” His hand dropped to his side. “I was frustrated, but not at you. My frustration was…misplaced, and I took it out on you, which was wrong. I’m sorry for how I acted, Octavia.”

His use of my full first name was jarring. It felt wrong to not be Tavi to him.

“What were you so frustrated about, then?”

Cyan, also known as Cyanide, the smooth-talking negotiator of the ruling vampire clan, looked absolutely flustered.

“I…ah, huh.” He smiled sheepishly, one fang poking his bottom lip. “You really don’t know?”

I stared blankly. “No. You said it had nothing to do with me, so why would I?”

“Right, right.” He rubbed his jaw, which was starting to grow a layer of stubble. “I—don’t worry about it. It was just clan stuff that Thorne talked to me about.”

“Oh. Okay.” I didn’t know what to make of that. Clan stuff was most likely none of my business.

“Anyway.” Cyan turned his palms up. “I apologize and accept full responsibility for my actions. I’d love for you to accept my apology, but I understand if you don’t.”

I crossed my arms, thinking it over. “It wasn’t even the yelling that bothered me. But you avoiding me for weeks was really confusing. I thought I had done something wrong. You were like, shunning me and that…that hurt, Cyan.”

He winced. “I’m so sorry, Tavi. I’m not good at—” He stopped, swallowed, and tried again. “What I mean to say is I’m kind of, um…” He trailed off again and let out a wry laugh as he looked down at his lap. “I’m not a very good friend sometimes. I fuck up. I let people down.” He glanced up at me, his gaze cold despite the warm red tone. “So if you don’t want to be friends with me, I would understand.”

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