Page 34 of Sacrifice
"You are." He reaches out, thumb brushing my bottom lip before I can jerk away. "You've been mine since the first time you let me kiss you. Since the first time you came apart in my hands. Since?—"
"Stop." My voice comes out breathless, not nearly as firm as I intended. "Just stop."
"Why? Because you feel it too?" He leans closer. "Because you know I'm right?"
"Because my dad's watching and he'll literally kill you if you keep touching me."
Emil glances over and smirks, sees my Dad indeed watching us with narrowed eyes, and steps back. But not before leaning in to whisper, "Your dad pretty much gave me his blessing, kitten. This isn't over."
"It never started," I whisper back.
"Liar." He straightens, normal volume now. "Enjoy your family dinner, Saga. I'll be around if you need me."
"I won't."
"You will." He's so fucking sure of himself. "Sooner than you think."
He walks away, and I'm left standing there, skin burning where he touched me, heart racing for reasons I refuse to examine.
"Everything okay?" Dad appears at my side, eyes still on Emil's retreating form.
"Fine," I lie. "He's just... persistent."
"That what we're calling it?" Dad's trying not to smile. "Looks like you two are gonna end up in a storage closet later. Your mom and I ended up there many times."
"Ew! Dad!"
"What? I'm old, not blind." He puts an arm around my shoulders. "You know, if your mother and I could make it work, you two probably can too."
"This is different."
"Is it? Because from where I'm standing, it looks like two stubborn people refusing to admit the obvious."
"Which is?"
"That you're crazy about each other and too proud to say it first."
"I'm not crazy about Emil. I can barely stand him."
"Uh huh." Dad squeezes my shoulder. "Just remember, sweetheart—the opposite of love isn't hate. It's indifference. And you two are anything but indifferent."
He leaves me with that wisdom, going to join Mom by the fire pit.
I stand there for a long moment, watching the families around me, the easy affection between couples who've figured their shit out.
Runes and his wife, laughing at something. Magnus with his arm around his girl.
Rio and Dasha, still in that honeymoon phase but solid, secure.
My phone buzzes.
Another unknown number?
No—it's Emil. He must have texted from his real number this time.
Emil:
Stop looking for me. I'm in the chapel handling club business. Your staring is distracting.
