Page 46 of Bane of the Wild Hunt

“He was being rude!” I defended myself, shooting him a glare on my way back by him to the cart outside.

“I have no doubt.”

“Andyouwere mad at me,” I added, citing the true source of my agitation.

“Yes, I do occasionally have emotions,” Sage assured me in evident amusement.

I huffed in aggravation at his flippant comment as I got to the cart again. I tried to focus on stacking as many of the smaller baskets in my arms as I could, but he leaned on the cart near me and lightly touched my elbow. It was not a demanding prod but a gentle bid for my attention.

“What?” I growled, looking up at him in annoyance, but he appeared more sombre, watching me closely with those perceptive purple eyes.

“I can be mad and still care about you,” he assured me, and my brows shot up in shock that he had recognized the fears that were gnawing on me. “I can become frustrated, even angry with you, and it will never mean that I have stopped caring,” he reiterated when he saw my reaction.

I was stunned and could not speak for so long that he eventually took the baskets out of my hands and put them back on the wagon. I just stared up at him in uncertainty of how to respond to his declaration as he leaned against the cart next to me again and waited.

“I am not… aes sídhe,” I whispered finally.

“I am aware. What does that have to do with—”

“I won’t ever be… like you,” I tried to explain, but he tilted his head as if he did not understand. “I am not good at doing the right thing when I’m mad or hurt. I’m not good at relationships or fitting in, and I don’t want you to have expectations of me that I am just not able to fulfill. And I really don’t want…” I breathed in deeply when my voice hitched. “Sage, I don’t want to disappoint you.”

He looked surprised for a moment before he composed himself and then looked down at the ground between us while he contemplated my admission. He was quiet for so long that I was nervous I had said too much.

“I am… flattered, Summer. But Idon’talways know what to do. And the gods know I certainly don’t always do the right thing either,” Sage assured me finally as he raised his eyes to mine again. He hesitated again, and I thought there might be something more he wanted to say, but he held it back. “I know how it feels to be afraid that you will not measure up to someone else’s expectations,” he said instead. “It is as if the fear of their disappointment becomes a shackle that binds you to their vision for you. That is not something I want you to feel from me, so I am sorry if I put pressure on you. My grandfather said—”

Sage trailed off as if rethinking whatever he was about to tell me, so I grabbed his arm impulsively.

“What did he say?” I asked him, unable to deny a deep craving for more of his secrets.

“He always told me the expectations others take upon themselves to fabricate for you are of no consequence. Unless you allow them to matter,” Sage finished with a fond smile as he recalled what must have been a happy memory of his grandsire.

“Your expectations matter to me,” I blurted, taking us both off guard this time.

I wanted to look away from him out of embarrassment, but his eyes strayed to my ears. I couldn’t help watching him assessthe way they flattened in a helpless betrayal of my nervousness. Having my emotions exposed like that had always been agitating to me, but watching Sage cue his reaction based on them was oddly comforting.

“Then what expectations do you think I have to which you are unequal?” he wanted to know.

“I… don’t know. For me to be more patient. Rational. Helpful. Kind,” I answered with a shrug.

Sage grunted thoughtfully, mulling over my admission for a moment.

“So is it my unconditional approval that you want or do you see value in those expectations?”

I knew the answer right away, much as I hated it, so I hesitated for a long time before I answered.

“I see the value,” I admitted softly, lowering my eyes.

I was surprised when Sage stepped closer and reached up to gently tap the underside of my chin with his knuckle to bring my gaze back up to his.

“If you find value in the qualities you listed then allowthatto be your incentive to aspire to them rather than the approval of anyone else,” he urged me.

I wanted to explain that I had no other reason to want those things other than to please him, but I already knew it was the wrong thing to say, so I held it back.

“Your grandfather sounds like he was a wise man.”

“He was,” Sage assured me, lowering his hand from my face and giving me another of those fond smiles.

“Why did he tell you all of that about the expectations of other people?” I wanted to know.

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