Page 83 of Aine

I shrug, hesitant to give more information than I already have.

“Just that it was her mark you wore until I forced mine on you,” I eventually murmur, feeling ashamed for my actions.

Two wrongs don’t make a right, and despite him forcing his mark on me, I wish I would’ve waited until I had permission to return one. I can’t even begin to imagine how upsetting it must’ve been for him to have something so important forced on him twice.

To me, it was nothing more than a crazy man putting a pleasurable scar on me, but I know it was more meaningful to him.

“I didn’t want her to do it,” he says. “I was drunk and she marked the inside of my thigh before I realized.” Damien looks almost frantic as he grabs my face and urges me to look into his eyes. “I’ve been careful about my drinking since then and—”

“Damien!” I shout, cutting off his rambling. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me.”

I hope he can’t sense my pity as I reach up and cup his hands, which still rest on my cheeks. He’s clearly distraught over this, and I have no intentions of giving him a hard time and making him feel worse.

Damien’s eyes are wide as he searches my face for a lie, and I offer him a small smile to show there isn’t one. His throat bobs as he gulps, and I’m not sure what I expect, but it isn’t for him to drop his hands from my face and scoot away.

“I don’t understand,” he says.

“Why would I be upset with you for something another person forced on you?” I ask.

Damien scoffs, looking at me with disgust before shaking his head and pushing himself up off the ground.

“I’m your mate. You’re supposed to be upset somebody else marked me,” he argues.

I blink, struggling to keep up with his thought process. First he was scared I was upset, and now he’s angry I’m not? “Are you seriously mad that I’m not mad?”

I may feel bad for him, but he needs to do a better job of communicating his feelings if this is ever going to work between us. Damien ignores me as he bends and begins to shove our sandwich wrappers back into the paper bag they came in. I watch him in angry silence, not appreciating his confusing reactions. It’s times like these I wish he couldn’t hide his emotions from the bond. It’d be a huge help right now.

“I obviously don’t want you to be angry, but I want you to care enough to be angry.” He grunts, crumbling the bag in his hand. “I’d be furious if you let another mark you.”

Damien shakes his head before turning and walking to the nearby trash can. I rub at my temples and take a deep breath to calm myself down. Getting frustrated isn’t going to get us anywhere.

It’s evident he’s moving slower than usual as he walks back over, his feet dragging behind him in an attempt to waste time and avoid confronting me.

When it’s clear he has no intentions to stand as close as before, I take the initiative and move into his space. I feel like this argument isn’t one that should be shouted across a large field, and if that means I need to be the one to crowd him for once, then that’s what I’ll do.

I try to explain. “I’ll admit I’m a little sad somebody marked you before me, but that doesn’t mean I’m mad at you. What Freya did was wrong, and I don’t think you should blame yourself for being taken advantage of.”

I reach out and grab his forearm, but he’s quick to pull away. I gulp as his pupils dilate and his body starts to quiver. He isn’t trying to scare me, but it’s still the reaction his angry beast invokes inside of me.

“Stop pitying me,” he snaps. “I’m an Alpha. It’s my responsibility not to let these things happen.”

His voice is thick, and he refuses to meet my eye as I stare up at him. A small part of me wishes he was more open to talk, but I understand he isn’t ready. I shouldn’t have told him I know what Freya did.

I’m sure this conversation would have gone much differently if I hadn’t pushed him.

“I’m not going to tell anybody,” I promise.

The muscle in his jaw twitches as he turns away. “I don’t care.”

I’m undecided on whether or not it’s a good idea to take hold of his hand, but I do it, anyway. My fingers are too short to wrap around the entire width of his palm, but I hold as much as I can. Damien doesn’t wrap his fingers around mine as he usually does, but he doesn’t try to pull away, which I consider a good sign.

He’s clearly embarrassed about this, and if he’s not ready to talk about it, I’ll drop the subject. The silence feels awkward as we both stare at our interlocked hands.

“Are you ready to head back to the inn?” I ask.

I was looking forward to doing more exploring around the village, but after this conversation, I don’t know how much fun that’ll be. Damien sighs, his fingers finally curling around my own before he abruptly pulls me against his chest. I gasp, my free hand lifting to press against his abdomen in an attempt to stabilize myself.

“I’m so sorry, Aine,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to the crown of my head. “I’ve made many mistakes since I found you, and if I could take them all back, I would.”

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