Page 79 of A Monstrous Claim

How the hell did he get all this stuff into the monster realm?

The thought of Azarius and Elio dragging a king-sized bed through the portal in Atlanta makes me laugh, but I quickly stifle it.

“Then why are you here?” As usual, his tone is sharp. No hint of the sensitive Rafe that comforted me during my panic attack.

Azarius was right. He’s fine and acting like his typical self.

I shift my weight back and forth nervously as I consider how to proceed. Even though I practiced my speech several times over the last few days, I’m suddenly drawing a blank.

“I needed to talk to you,” I say, still trying to assemble my thoughts.

He scoffs, his eyes still glued out the window. “Then speak.”

I stare at the profile of his face in disbelief. It never ceases to amaze me just how fucking rude this man can be.

“Then turn around and pretend like you give a fuck.”

It’s not the smartest thing to say, and I realize it as soon as the words leave my lips, but I’m sick of being treated like the biggest inconvenience in his life.

Granted, I mightbethe biggest inconvenience he’s facing, but he could at least tell me that and stop turning his nose up at me like I’m nothing.

His shoulders tense, and he slowly wheels around to face me, his eyes locking onto me like lasers. He takes several steps in my direction and I swallow hard.

“You would do well to remember who you’re talking to,” he says, raising his voice slightly. “I can easily make your existence a nightmare.”

I’m terrified to hold his gaze, but even more afraid to look away. I knead the inside of my cheek between my teeth, contemplating how to continue without angering him further.

As usual, things aren’t going well between us, even though I came up here with good intentions.

So far, I’m failing miserably.

I let out a sigh, throwing my hands up before letting them fall in defeat.

“I know you hate me, and you probably regret saving me, but the least you can do is look at me when I’m trying to thank you for saving my life.” The words rush out in a pleading tone, but I have to get them out before they eat me alive. “You could have easily left me to die, but you didn’t, and I’m very grateful.”

The pressing weight of Rafe's gaze is crushing me, making me feel miniscule. For a long moment he doesn’t say anything or move at all, just stares at me like I’m the most irritating thing he’s ever seen. When I can’t hold his gaze any longer, I let my head fall and stare at the hardwood between my feet.

I’m beginning to think this was all a mistake.

How silly of me to think Rafe might have changed because of a random act of decency.

After a whole minute of painful silence, he steps closer, and my heart rate picks up. Every footstep kicks my anxiety further into overdrive until my breathing becomes erratic. When he stops right in front of me, my head is swimming, and I flinch when he reaches out to tilt my chin up with two fingers.

Our gazes link, and my breath gets stuck in my lungs. His red eyes, which are normally hardened with rage, possess an unfamiliar softness that leaves me speechless. It's like I'm staring into the face of a stranger, despite recognizing his other features.

"You're welcome.” Even his voice is soft.

He drops his hand, but our eyes remain locked.

I want to burn this image of Rafe into my memory.

I want to cling to the hint of compassion in his expression, because it’s the first time he’s looked at me with anything other than disdain in his eyes.

It’s such a relief that I temporarily forget why I came to talk to him in the first place. I almost wish he’d look at me that way forever.

And then, in a blink, it's gone.

His brows draw low over his eyes, and the typical hardness returns to his features.

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