She straightened, eyes cold.
“You what?” he asked, tugging at her incomplete statement.
The words tasted bitter in her mouth now.
“I hate you,” she said instead. “From now on.”
And she ran.
Marcus stood before her, oblivious to what she’d seen,
Her vision blurred with tears, but she didn’t stop running. She encircled her arm around her belly.
Marcus had rejected her. But she would protect her son. Her child would never feel suffering; he would never feel unwanted.
She would give him everything. She would build a new life for him.
Far from Moon Ridge.
Far from Marcus Vale.
***
Athena clenched her fists and forced herself back into the present. Back into this moment. Back into the armor of her Glamour.
Marcus tilted his head as he studied her with concern that felt like salt in old wounds to her. “You seem shaken up.”
Of course, I was just about to get hit by a car, and the one person I never thought to see again just pushed me out of the way.
“You didn’t have to do that,” she replied instead, forcing steadiness into her voice.
“You do have a unique way of saying thank you,” he retorted, smiling. “You’re welcome.”
His voice hit her again, still dipped in that same syrupy smoothness she once fell in love with. Her heart missed a beat.
She hated that her heart reacted to that.
What was she doing?
Athena’s gut urged her to bolt, guarding her child and her witch blood from discovery. What if Marcus sensed her magic? This coincidental meeting was too dangerous. She needed out.
“Thank you very much, but I—” she started, voice trembling, ready to slip away, but then froze. A cut on his forearm bled, red streaking his skin.
“You’re hurt,” she blurted, lips moving before her brain caught up. Her brows pinched, and she cursed the flicker of care that surged within her, despite his past betrayal.
“Oh, this,” he shrugged, although she caught him wincing slightly. “I’m fine.”
“No, you’re not,” she bit out, eyeing the blood dripping down his forearm.
He flashed a lopsided smile. “Well worth it. Better me than you.”
A pang struck her chest.
No. No. No. Don’t fall into that again.
Her instincts warned her repeatedly.
She reminded herself of who he was—what he had done. He had once held her heart and broken it with remorse. She couldn’t afford this. Couldn’t afford him. Not after everything wrong he had done to her.