Page 80 of Aine

I raise an eyebrow. “Howdidyou intend for it to come out?” I tease.

I grin in triumph as he huffs and grabs my bicep instead of answering. My cackling continues as he drags me down the street, loving that he’s embarrassed. It’s about time the roles were reversed.

The red tinge on his cheeks darkens as he leads me to a large clearing. It’s surprising to see such a human emotion on him, and I find this Damien a welcome change from the calm and collected one I’ve grown accustomed to.

“Can I get one?” I ask, referring to the tiny beasts inside the store.

Damien grimaces, looking almost apologetic as he shakes his head.

“They see beasts as predators. That’s why I didn’t go inside the shop. It wouldn’t be happy in our home.”

I open my mouth to make a snide comment about his home not being mine but shut my mouth last minute. He’s in a good mood today, and I don’t want to ruin that.

Damien maneuvers us around the humans until he finds an empty spot in the field and sits. He pats the area next to him in an evident gesture for me to join, his face falling when I hesitate.

“Is it wet?” I ask, bending to touch the grass.

It’s dry enough, and I carefully sit next to him. Damien smiles in my direction before pulling out the cheesy breakfast sandwiches he purchased. They’re easily the size of my head, and I’m shocked as I watch him pull out three. One is slid in my direction, the other two meant for Damien.

I’ve noticed the beasts have pretty hearty appetites, but this is extreme. Looking around, I spot a group of teens playing. They run around laughing as they kick a ball between them, their bodies red and sweaty from the exercise.

The sight brings back memories of being with my friends when I was a child, before they abandoned me for being a bad wife, and I can’t help but long for those days again. Before Henry, I loved to spend time outdoors and had a competitive spirit that made me relatively good at those silly games.

The humans look in our direction every few seconds, their sly glances not nearly as hidden as I assume they think them to be.

“Are you ever bothered with everybody staring at you?” I ask, grabbing my sandwich.

I gasp and cough as the cheese burns my mouth. Damien sets down his food to try to help, but I wave off his attempts to pat my back. I should have checked the temperature before shoving it in my mouth.

Damien eyes me with concern before responding. “Not really. You get used to it after a while.”

I hum, unsure how much I believe that. I don’t know if I could ever get used to having this much attention on me.

“You can smell strong emotions, right?”

Damien’s nose scrunches as he shrugs. “I can smell the product of heightened emotions, but not necessarily the emotion itself. So if a person is scared, I can smell the sweat they emit, or if a woman is aroused, I can smell her wetness.” He takes the last bite of his first sandwich and grabs the other. “Over time, we learn how to connect the dots on scent and emotion pretty well.”

I nod as I absorb the information, fascinated with the beasts’ abilities. I don’t know how much I love that when he said he could smell my arousal, he literally meant he could smell my vagina, but I suppose it makes sense. I’m unsure what else I would’ve thought he’d be smelling. Maybe pheromones or something.

Damien splits his sandwich in half and holds it out to me as I finish up my own. I shake my head, unable to imagine eating any more than I already have. I had to force the last few bites down.

“I’m stuffed.” I laugh as he continues to try to push the sandwich toward me. “Thank you, though.”

His eyes darken as I refuse his offer, and after some light arguing, he finally retreats. Or at least, that’s what I thought.

“I’ll leave it here in case you change your mind.” He sets the sandwich half in the space between our bodies.

My lips twitch, but I don’t let him see how much his kind actions affect me. Damien’s been going out of his way to be accommodating, and it’s starting to make me suspicious.

“Why have you been so nice to me lately?” I can’t help but ask.

Damien shrugs. “You’re my mate.”

“I’ve been your mate this entire time, but you weren’t kind when we first met,” I argue. “In fact, you were downright cruel.”

Damien’s shoulders slump as I whisper the words. I try to make eye contact, wanting to see his reaction, but he refuses to look in my direction and chooses instead to stare at the grass by his knees.

My eyes grow wet at his callous response, and the tears I’ve been holding in for weeks now begin to fall. The muscle in his jaw twitches as I reach up and wipe away the wetness on my cheeks. It’s clear he’s uncomfortable talking about this, but if I’m ever going to forgive him, I need to air my grievances.

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