Page 88 of Wilds of Wonder
“No.” Her eyes were so bright, so full of anguish. “That’s not what I’m saying. I don’t feel guilty for falling in... for falling for you.” She slipped her hand from mine and straightened. “You made me feel seen in a way no one ever had, and I will always be grateful for you. But that day I realized how trapped I truly was. I couldn’t reveal my face or name to you because doing so would jeopardize my horrible, pathetic life.”
I hated that she ever had to go through that. Part of me grateful Annalee escaped the Academy of Ladies, even if it meant coming here. That fate would’ve suffocated her. Whereas Emory found a way to carve out a piece of this world for her, I wasn’t so sure Annalee would’ve been able to do the same.
“I ran away from you in the highlands,” Emory continued, “and I vowed that if I ever got free of my husband, I would never, ever put myself in a situation like that again.”
My heart twisted. “And you truly think that’s what I would do? Trap you?”
“I saw it,” she said, voice barely a whisper. “Please don’t make me say it, Maverick.”
“Say what?” I rubbed my jaw just as a ribbon of green twisted throughout the purple sky.
“Don’t make me say no to you.”
I gave a stiff nod, and she stood, water still dripping from the ends of her hair. “I’m going back to camp. It’s been a long day, and I need some sleep.”
I met her gaze but said nothing, too numb to speak, to feel. She padded past me without looking back.
I didn’t dare look at the lake, but whatever she’d seen, it wasn’t real. It couldn’t be.
Then again... Doubt filled me, a voice whispering that I’d done it time and time again. I’d put work before those who mattered most. I’d done it to Annalee. I’d left her in a horrible situation for a job. I’d neglected relationships, kept others at bay, all for the sake of my career. So who was to say I wouldn’t do it again in the future? Maybe Emory was right to say no. Maybe I wasn’t what she needed after all. Maybe I truly had to let her go.
And that was the most painful realization of all.
Chapter Forty-Two
EMORY
Iwatched as Maverick walked ahead with Aron and El, El signing something to him, her red dress muddy at the hem, swishing around her boots. The long sleeves had been cut, hanging in shreds around her arms. Maverick watched her intently, and I wondered what they were talking about.
We’d barely spoken over the last two days while we continued our travels through the Wilds. We’d come across a few different places where El thought Annalee might have been, only to come up empty, no Annalee in sight. I saw the disappointment in the downturn of Maverick’s lips, the way he stared hard at the ground like if he just looked closely enough, he could find his way to her. I wanted to reach out to him, touch him, kiss away his worries. But I couldn’t. Not after I’d so thoroughly rejected him.
It hurt me as much as it did him, but I doubted that would be any kind of comfort. So I stayed away, gave him space, and I hoped that one day maybe we could be friends.
Something told me I could never be just friends with the bone collector. Not after everything we’d been through together.
I tugged at the pocket watch hanging around my neck, the hand nearing the eleven. We still didn’t know what it was counting down toward, but I was growing increasingly concerned about what might happen when it ticked all the way back to the twelve.
“Was it the sex?” Driscoll asked from next to me.
“Excuse me?” I dropped the pocket watch, and it thudded against my chest as my head snapped in his direction. We walked under thickets of vines that had twisted and fused together to create a tunnel that arched above our heads. I hadn’t asked what danger they posed as we’d entered, but when I looked up at their wriggling forms, I wasn’t sure I wanted to know.
“You and Maverick have barely spoken for two days.” Driscoll tilted his head, studying Maverick. “So was it the sex? Not what you expected? Did he call you the wrong name? Was it bent? Or maybe he just got on top of you and a few pumps later it was over. That’s definitely happened to me. Major turnoff. One time?—”
“No, Driscoll.” I lowered my voice, darting glances to our companions in front of us. “We haven’t had sex.”
He gasped. “You and Hot Professor haven’t even had sex yet?”
“No.” And now I’d never know what it felt like.
“That actually makes more sense,” Driscoll said. “I can’t imagine Hot Professor not being good at sex. He kind of seems like the type of guy who’s good at everything, you know?”
“I really don’t want to talk about this.” I crossed my arms.
Up ahead, Aron glanced over his shoulder, those blue eyes trained on Driscoll, before he turned back around.
I shot a curious glance at Driscoll. “You know what I think?”
“Um, no, actually.” He tugged at his curly hair. “I’m not a mind reader.”
