Page 18 of Live To Tell

“Days ago.” I close my eyes.

“With Grayson? Were you more to each other before… the incident?” I shake my head. “By allowing the hybrid out?”

I open my eyes and look back into his steel ones to see the self I know will reflect in them. They’re stormy, Rowan’s pupils dilated by the desire still between us, but they don’t obscure the truth: I share how he feels. “I have certain overwhelming feelings for you, Rowan. Love? I’m unsure, as the emotion is such an abstract concept. But overwhelming equals frightening.”

Laughter bursts from him, and then he holds a palm over his mouth when I frown. “Sorry. Love isn’t something that ever makes sense, Violet. It just is.”

“Precisely. Abstract. Undefinable. When you kiss me, magic isn’t the only thing that flows through, and you’ve created feelings that are more than a bond. However, I can’t define them.”

“Define? Okay.” Rowan takes my cheeks in both hands. “This is what I mean when I say, ‘I love you’. I’m never away from you, because you’re always with me, whether it’s the lingering warmth your touch creates, or a memory of your kiss that distracts me from the world. Sometimes, I miss you to the point I ache, everything in knots, as if you took a part I need back.” His throat bobs. “I can’t bear the thought of you not in my life, and you half-destroyed me when the bond blew us apart. I expected to be angry with you, but felt sick for days because you shut me out.” He studies my face. “Is any of that familiar?”

I stare, the words illogical yet logical too. “Some. I had considered a stomach flu or unhealed heart damage from my fight with the fence post, but your interpretation makes sense.” I frown. “Line most certainly crossed—it appears I love you.”

“Violet, you’re hilarious.” He kisses me softly.

I place fingers on his lips, as my tangled mind attempts to make sense of the nonsensical. “The world I’ve lived in since I stepped outside my parents’ estate confuses me, and when I’m with you, that new world makes sense. You anchor me here, and without you, I’m lost.” I pause. “Although you can be irritating and frustrating, and then I’d rather not be around you.”

“Naturally, you’d need to qualify your words with something blunt. Well, I still find you unbearably superior and rude and don’t miss you quite as much sometimes,” he says matter of factly. “And I also think you’re beautiful and uh... desirable.”

I tap my lips. “Yes. You did miss the desire for sex in your explanation of ‘love’.”

“Oh...” His eyes grow wide. “Right.”

“I see more in your thoughts than you realize, Rowan,” I inform him. “Accidentally. I don’t pry. Mind you, the inevitably of that situation grows closer.”

He stares, then splutters a laugh. “Man, Violet. You sound extremely unenthusiastic about going further. But I respect what you do or don’t want.”

“But you also struggle with the idea I may not?”

“Mmm. Especially after moments like that.” He cups a cheek in one hand, kissing me in that slow way that doesn’t tickle or irritate, but instead pushes me closer to that inevitable moment. “Or that,” he whispers.

I lick the taste of him from my lips, grateful his blood barely touched me from the graze. “Now we’ve established that we each have loveable qualities that redeem each other’s faults, what do we do next?”

Rowan chuckles. “You’re back to analyzing so easily. I don’t know. You’re in charge—as ever.”

“Oh, I know what we do next, but not tonight.” Rowan opens his mouth, but I interrupt and point beneath the dresser at the stone no longer glowing. “I mean, what do we do about that?”

Chapter 7

GRAYSON

The town residents pay less attention to me and don’t judge as much as students at the academy. You’d think following years of stories and movies about vampires, people would’ve continued to avoid us once the supernatural world revealed itself. Instead, the macabre fascination that humans have with vampires, especially hemia, continues. I can't blame the academy kids for their distrust of me personally, especially the witches, considering the mistakes I’ve made.

I’m pissed that some accused me of joining in with the group of drunk humans and hemia at the Spring Ball afterparty, and resulting injuries. At the library, Holly’s face clearly told me that she heard the rumors about 'Grayson up to his old tricks', but I couldn’t read Violet’s expression or thoughts. Maybe that’s a reason I’ve avoided Violet since then—I don't want to hear Violet say that she doesn’t believe me?

She’s in the cafe with Leif and Rowan and I pause before I enter the human-filled establishment in town, watching them through the floor to ceiling windows. Two long bench seats run either side of the cafe tables creating booths, and Violet sits with the guys in one. Leif’s opposite, listening intently to Violet, and Rowan’s beside her, their bodies touching in a way I'd never expect possible.

Am I jealous? Maybe. Not of Rowan, but at the naturalness that’s grown between them. They’ve the bonded witch synchronicity in how they move more fluidly, anticipating each other’s movements in a way that unites them more. I doubt they're conscious of this—bonded witches rarely notice.

But the girl who has my heart in a vice is more than a witch and both she and Rowan come from families where the mothers' have more than one partner. Naturally that'll continue. A shifter for Violet, like Eloise? Well, half-shifter. I smile to myself—at how Leif’s hand’s close to where Violet’s rests on the table beside her coffee cup, everything he feels for her obvious to anybody who watches them.

Leif may be the one starry-eyed, but a similar closeness grows between them too. The night of the Spring Ball, Leif definitely received a warmer welcome from Violet compared to the day I returned to the academy.

I swipe at my cheek, pushing away a strand that the wind stole from hair tied loosely back. The pair aren’t a threat to Violet, but I am. That’s why the two guys are closer to her. Rowan looked at me oddly when I said this to him and he reminded me about how I lost against her at the warehouse, as if I ever need reminding. But I don’t mean physically. Rowan and Leif pushed through her walls, but Violet still easily remains in control of herself around the pair.

Me? I threaten that control, and so she keeps the barrier between us as impenetrable as Rowan’s shadows can be.

I step aside as two guys leave the café, barely registering me. Why did Violet choose to meet here? This is the epicenter of the town’s human teens’ social scene—in the daytime anyway, since a lot our age head to the pub in the evenings. There’re several groups I recognize inside, some who nod or greet me as I wander into the cafe to meet my own friends.

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