Page 287 of Blood & Betrayals

“An engagement ring?”

I curse under my breath. I shouldn’t have mentioned that, especially to the stranger. But why not? Connor is my future, and I’ve been very clear about that. I clear my throat. “Yeah.”

Silence crackles between us, and I consider filling it, but I have no idea what to say.

“He didn’t want to be protected,” the stranger finally says, his voice tight and flat.

“He sees it as a betrayal, and it was.”

“So, what are you going to do?” he asks, an edge to his voice.

“I’m going to work to fix things, and I’m going to stop keeping things from him.”

“And how do you plan to do that? Make things right?”

I am a little flustered by his questions. “I-I don’t know, but he wants us to work. So that’s a start, I guess.”

“But you’ve apologized?” he asks.

“I have.”

“So what’s next, then?”

“I’m not sure. He says he still loves me, so…” I sigh. “He says it’ll just take time.”

“And it’s killing you to give him time,” the stranger says. It’s not a question but a statement.

“Well, I mean, it just happened, but I feel… unsettled.”

“Unsettled because he’s holding back.” It’s another statement.

I shake my head. “Unsettled because Connor and I don’t fight. I wish he’d yell at me and get it all out, and then we can just move on.”

“And if he yelled, what would your reaction be?”

“I would accept it, and we’d move forward. Or he’d end things.” Once he finally realizes this isn’t worth fighting for.

“And you’d break.”

“I–”

“He helps,” he interrupts, his voice almost accusatory. “If he left, you’d break.”

“He does help, but at least I’d know he’d be happier.” I rub my hand over my face. “It doesn’t matter. I’m not making decisions for him anymore, and he seems to want to make this better, so… we will.”

“You both have to want to make it better.”

I glance at my bedroom door again. “He deserves better. What if he doesn’t realize that until we’re married?”

“What would happen then?” he asks, his voice tense. “Would you leave him?”

“I… What?”

“Would you leave him if he realized you weren’t right for him?” he asks again, and every one of his questions pierces me like a bullet.

“I don’t think I’d have to. He’d leave me.”

“But would you? Would you ever leave him, little fae?” he asks, the questions hanging between us heavily.

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