“Well it’s not like that means it’s all said and done with. By my count, we’ve been engaged twice as well.”
“Brazen, I said I’m sorry. I can’t do this right now,” I whimper as the halls I’m looking through bear enough trauma to force the tears out.
“Hey, look, I’m sorry. It just caught me by surprise,” he says while pulling me back to the table. “I didn’t expect things to change so suddenly. One second you’re telling me it’s him, and the next you’re engaged. I shouldn’t have been so crude about it.”
“Actually you should. You have every right to hate me. You have every right to call me anything you want, say anything you want, and even loathe the sight of me. I fucked you over, and I deserve any lashings you feel like dealing out. I just can’t do it right now,” I screech too loudly, and eyes fall on us from all around.
“Araya, I don’t want to give you any kind of lashing. I think you’ve endured enough from my kind,” he says very quietly in a tone that screams out his guilt.
“I wasn’t speaking in the physical sense,” I grumble.
“I know you weren’t, but you associate that word with my kind. Is that why you chose him? Is it because it’s too painful to think of being with someone that shares the same blood as those who have hurt you the worst?”
Tears drip more freely, and I wipe them as he walks around to my other side to shield me from the on-looking eyes around us.
“No. I never once looked at you in that way. You’re one of the kindest people I’ve ever met, Brazen. I can’t explain why I chose him. I wish I could.”
He sighs out as he stares at the screen, and he freezes the frame while sending the picture in an email to Clay.
“I found it,” he mutters dryly.
“I need to go buy some more clothes,” I grumble while turning to walk away.
“Araya, I’m sorry for upsetting you.”
“Like I said, you have that right. Besides, you’re wrong about sharing their blood. No other full blood can walk in the sun because no other has ever had me. You share my blood more than theirs now. I loved you, and I still do. I just love him too. We have a connection I wish I could explain.”
He starts to speak when both of our phones start buzzing. I almost jump at the unexpected vibrations rattling from my pocket, and he checks his screen to read the message I’m sure matches mine.
Conference room in five minutes.
“I’ll walk with you,” he murmurs when he assumes my phone read the same.
Eyes continue to stare me down, and I’m not sure if it’s because of our accidental outbursts or because of my racy attire. My heels clank against the floor, and we head in together to meet our small group of trusted faces.
Hale’s eyes narrow when he sees me walk in with Brazen, but I walk over to take the seat next to him to ease any jealously he might feel. His arm stretches across my back very possessively, and he goes so far as to kiss my head in front of the pale eyes burning against me.
Brazen sits down directly in front of us, and I’m thankful for the table dividing the two men I spent too long torn between. Grayson walks in with Angelica, and they occupy the seats next to Hale and me as Nicholas comes to take the seat beside Brazen. Clay is staring at a screen as if in complete shock, and I’m curious as to what exactly is going on.
“What’s this about?” I muse as the door to the room locks shut.
“Well, for starters, you,” he says very vaguely while turning around.
“What now?” I huff in exasperation.
“Araya, I did a test on your blood to check your span, and-”
“You did what? I told you I didn’t want to know!” I explode.
“I know you didn’t, but we need to know. Hale deserves to know now that you’ve again promised to marry him. Brazen deserved to know when you were engaged to him. I deserve to know how long my best friend has left. We all care about you, and we all wanted to know. More to the point, with Symphony in the picture, we need to know how long you’ll be at your peak. Usually when a savage grows more in control and in demand, the span is coming to an end.”
I get sick at my stomach, and Hale’s show of affection becomes sincere as he grips me to him with panicked hands.
“What the hell, Clay? Spit it out,” he prompts.
“I’m trying, I… I just… just don’t know how,” he stutters.
“Weeks, months, years? What is it?” Brazen urges.
