Page 68 of Of Sins and Sacrifice

“Ugh. Whatever. Are you done?” I ask as I look down at my arm. He’s finished bandaging my wound, and though it still hurts a little, the pressure of the bandage makes it more bearable.

Jumping off the chair, I put some distance between us.

“Thank you,” I mumble.

I might dislike him, but he did help me, so I can’t be too mean to him—though there’s nothing I’d like to do more. I’m not sure why he annoys me so much. I’m not one to usually be so rattled—all right, that might be stretching it. I admit I might have a temper, but I usually keep it in check. I am an ice deity, after all. I’m supposed to be cool and collected.

Supposed being the key word.

“You’re welcome, Minnie.”

I roll my eyes at him.

“Admit it. It’s cute,” he continues.

“I will admit no such thing,” I tell him, though I can’t stop myself from smiling. I suppose it is quite a cute name. Not that I’m accepting it. It’s just an observation.

“Truce?” he asks and extends his hand toward me. “We’ll be seeing each other a lot from now on. It would help to be on friendly terms.”

“But nottoofriendly,” I note.

He doesn’t reply, still holding out his hand for me. I suspect he wants me to grab it in one of those handshakes humans do.

I slide my hand into his much bigger one, and a current of electricity bursts through me. I gulp down at the uncomfortable feeling, but I don’t pull my hand away.

“Mine,” he suddenly says, tightening his hold over my hand.

I frown.

“You can call me Mine.”

I blink.

“Is that your middle name or something?”

He smiles and nods.

“I’m only allowingyouto use it. Since you’re not everyone.”

“That’s…nice of you,” I murmur.

Why is it suddenly so warm in here? Why are my cheeks flaming hot?

“You will, right? Use it, I mean?” he asks, a little flustered.

“OnlyIcan use it?” I ask to clarify. I rather like the sound of that.

“Only you.” He nods.

“Fine. Then I shall call you Mine.”

His lips stretch into a wide smile.

I stare into his green eyes, unable to move.

“Go to sleep, Minnie. I’ll see you later.”

Too tired to argue with him, I don’t bother to correct him anymore about my name. Instead, I just pull my hand back—my palm still tingles.

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