Page 170 of Fangs
And it wasn’t Trey.
“Ember—” he started, his eyes sharpening on my expression.
“You’re not Trey,” the words fell out of my mouth in numb disbelief.
Everything seemed to be suspended momentarily as if the entire world around us had held its breath. Then, the fireflies, the woods, everything vanished, leaving us in a terribly familiar darkness. He didn’t move from where he was still crouched, watching me warily, and fury flooded my veins—so hot I thought I might burst into flames.
“Howdareyou,” I seethed, scrambling to my feet. “How dare you use his face.”
He slowly got to his feet but stayed where he stood. “Ember—” he tried again. His face remained Trey’s, but that was not Trey’s voice.
“He is not a fucking puppet for you to play with!”
“I didn’t intend to trick you,” he said, his voice steady but with a thread of something sharp.
“Stop using his face!” I lunged toward him, and he tried to step back, but I caught his arm.
I didn’t have a plan, just rage, but as my hands touched his skin, golden beams of light flared, cutting through the darkness in every direction. I gaped at them, but he cried out as though in pain, stumbling to one knee. Under my hand, Trey’s wrist dissolved into shadows, revealing a pale, thinner arm. My heart pounded so loud it drowned out everything else as my eyes followed his arm; the rest of the shadows fell away like a curtain, and I stared at the man who appeared before me.
His hair was pure white, hanging around his face in loose curls, but he looked about the same age as Wolf. The planes of his face were sharp and angular, almost as though he’d been cut from rock. His eyes were jarringly blue. I’d never seen him before.
“Ember,” his voice came out pained, “I’m not your enemy.”
“Not my enemy?” I repeated in disbelief.
“Just let me explain.”
“Was that you? In the flower field?” I demanded, feeling like I teetered on the very edge of a precipice.
He held my gaze, his expression impassive, but something flickered in his eyes. “Yes.”
“Was iteverTrey?” My voice broke, but I didn’t let go.
He paused, his throat working as he swallowed. “No.”
A tear ran down my cheek, quickly followed by another. “How did you get in my head?”
“You reached out. You were reaching for…him.”
I stared at him, horror and pain and anger drowning me. “And you saw an opportunity.”
“You shut me out?—”
“You fucking terrorized me!”
Anger sparked in his eyes. “You have no idea what I’ve done for you.”
“What does that mean?”
“I’ve been trying to keep yousafe,” his voice rose.
“Well, you’ve done a real shit job of it!” I hissed.
“You think you know?—”
“How does pretending to be Trey keep me safe?” I interrupted, so angry my voice shook. “I don’t want your fucking protection. I want you to leave me the fuck alone!”
He stared up at me, and I watched his blue eyes harden like a door slamming closed.
