Page 308 of Blood & Betrayals

“I was about to call you, too.” I take a deep breath. “Can I ask you something? And I need you to be really honest with me.”

“Of course.”

“Are Connor and I moving too fast?” I know the question is unfair. But I also believe that someone who understands me as deeply as he does will know the answer. While Alice’s answer mollified my worries, she’s only seen a snapshot of my darkness. She doesn’t really understand its magnitude.

The stranger is silent for so long that I wonder if he’s ended the call.

“Stranger?”

“What would you be like today if you had never met him?” he asks.

My brows furrow. “What do you mean?”

He clears his throat. “Do you think he’s changed you?”

I shift to lie on my back. “Yes. I’m definitely warmer now. More open and learning how to trust and be trusted.”

“Do you think he’ll continue to do so? Change you?”

I pause, honestly considering the question. “I’m not sure.”

“Then, yes. You’re moving too fast.”

My heart sinks, aching with the truth. “What?”

“He’s not going to challenge you to change, to become more. To fulfill your potential.”

“Right,” I whisper, trying to truly hear what he is saying and not reject his words outright.

“You’re young. I think you’re rushing things,” the stranger continues, and I close my eyes. “You must sense it too, or you wouldn’t have asked.”

“I tried to talk to Alice about it.”

“And?”

“She doesn’t understand. She asked if there was someone else.”

“Angels aren’t like fae. They don’t have predestined mates. I don’t know if he’s the one for you.”

“Mates,” I say, rolling my eyes. That’s all barbaric and misogynistic bullshit.

“What?”

“Nothing.” I need to change the subject because, truthfully, the only time I feel like we’re rushing things is when I’m not physically with Connor. So, it might just be nerves, and I have to believe it’s just nerves. “Look upTuathaToday.”

“What? Why?”

“Just type it in.”

I hear him shift and then typing on his laptop. The silence changes from comfortable to rage-filled. “What is this?” he hisses, the anger in his voice sending a thrill to my core.

“You know how the headmaster has a stalker page? This one is for fae.”

“These are all pictures of you,” he growls, the sound deadly.

“Stranger?”

“I have to go,” he snarls, and the line goes dead.

---