Page 160 of Blue Arrow Island
I put an arm around her, not sure if my smile is sad or amused. “But at least we’re not alone.”
“Sorry,” she mutters. “I’m just tired of being tired and smelling like a dirty sock.”
“We need to move,” Marcus says tightly. “We should split up for a few hours. The ravens won’t know who to follow and they’re not all that smart, so they might get so confused they don’t follow any of us.”
We work out search areas, agreeing to meet back up at the island’s tallest waterfall in three hours. Marcus leads the way into a dense section of jungle, where the ravens won’t be able to see us.
“You feeling okay?” he asks, throwing a quick glance over his shoulder at me.
“Other than whatever’s happening between us, I’m fine.”
His shoulders rise and fall in a sigh. “I’ve got a lot on my mind.”
“I know. It’s you not wanting to tell me any of it that’s the issue.”
He spins around to face me, anger pooling in his narrowed eyes. “You think it works like that? Just because we start fucking, I’m supposed to tell you every fucking thought I ever have?”
I raise my chin, not letting him see how hurt I am by what he just said. “My mistake. I won’t ask again.”
Hands on his hips, he avoids my eyes and looks over my shoulder, doing a double take.
“Hang on,” he snaps.
He slashes his machete through something on a branch behind me. Part of a lime-green snake’s body drops to the ground with a thud.
“What was that for?” I ask.
“I didn’t like how close it was getting to you,” he mutters.
“Right. Like when you assumed I wanted to fuck Olin and told me you don’t share.”
He glowers at me. “I don’t.”
He’s fast-tracking his way to the top of my shit list. It’s hard enough being out here scouring an island we’ve been over time and again on hardly any sleep—I’d rather partner with Amira if he’s going to be like this.
“So let me make sure I understand,” I say, my pulse pounding with anger. “You want us to share a room and fuck when you feel like it, and you get to decide we’re exclusive fuck partners, but I don’t get to ask for or expect anything more.”
He runs a hand through his hair, his exhale deep. “No. I’m here for anything you need. If you need to talk, I’ll listen. But that’s not me. I’m not someone who talks about my shit.”
I hold his gaze, fighting the lump in my throat. “Then how can I ever really know you?”
Shaking his head, he says, “You don’t want to know me. Trust me.”
“Yes, I do.” I put a palm on his chest, the contact sending a spark of warmth and arousal through me. “I know you’ve done bad things—so have I. I tried to poison Lochlan once and he blamed it on his cook. They sent her away and I—” I swallow against the shame. “I knew what was going to happen to her, but I still didn’t admit what I did. I’m responsible for her death.”
His eyes soften with sympathy. He puts his hand over mine. “It was her or you. The real fucked-up part of that whole thing was you being held prisoner in his house.”
“I know, but ... I could have been smarter about what I did. And that’s not?—”
A wolf howls nearby, and Marcus puts a finger over his lips. Then he closes his eyes, seemingly lost in his head for around fifteen seconds.
When he opens his eyes, I ask, “What did you just do?”
“I checked in with Flavius. That was his howl.”
I lower my brows, his ability to exchange actual information with Flavius news to me. “And everything’s okay?”
He nods. “The pack is hunting. That’s all it was.”
