Page 86 of Obsidian and Frost
I jolted at his brazen phrasing.
Before I could even begin to reconcile it, he continued all too quickly, “It’s not just survival mode now or rooted directly in her trauma. I mean, not from the standpoint of being afraid to get close. She wants to. But her power… she can’t control it in those circumstances and it leaks out, lashes out. It hurt me. Not that I care. I kind of… enjoy it. Butshecares. And Sylas believesyouare the key to being able to help her to remedy that, to ease that fear.”
“Because of what I can feel through our Soul Brand.”
“Yeah.”
I turned from him, needing a moment.
“Cassius,” he pushed, not even allowing me that.
The impetuousness of a wolf… Hades, it was infuriating.
“She’s not supposed to need me,” I spoke over my shoulder.
“Get over yourself. Velra doesn’t really need anyone—not in the way you mean, anyway. She just could do with a little guidance, and that seems to be something you can provide.”
Insolent little—
I couldn’t stop myself, I started toward him, towering over him, literally seething down at him.
And he simply stared.
Steadily.
Unaffected.
And with such determination.
Forher.
All for her.
Curses!
I stepped back, breathing heavily. “I will consider it.”
“Consider it? That’s it?”
“Yes. You’re fortunate that you’re even getting that.”
His gaze darted behind me and the next thing I knew, he was employing his vampiric speed to burst behind me to the entryway table. I spun to see him snatching up my photo of Velra. “She’s not your concern, huh?”
I’d put it there, intending to discard it, a symbol, really, of finally fully letting go of my sentiment toward her.
But it had been three days and I’d still yet to manage it, the photo remaining on that little table instead—frozen in space and time.
“Put it down,” I ground out.
Of course, he didn’t.
He held it up for me to see instead, weaponizing it, as he made me look at it—at her.
“You pulling away like that really hurt her. For somebody claiming they’re trying to safeguard her, you’re sure doing a piss-poor job of it. Andyoudon’t get to decide what she needs, what’sbest for her—she’s a grown fucking woman. Get a clue and lose that toxic mindset. I’ll get you a book if it helps.”
“What sort of book?”
He stilled. “You… fuck me, the fact you’re asking… yeah, expect a book in the mail. The magical mail. I’ll have Sylas send it over.” He finally put the picture down, although failing to hide a longing look at it as he did so. Then his harshness returned as he told me, “Sort this shit out in your mind and do something. Help her. And don’t take an age about it, or next time, it’ll be Sylas at your door.”
