“This.” He leans forward and taps my wrist through the fabric of my sleeve, right where that hissing serpent mark tarnishes my skin. “Will kill you.”
“What do you know?” The words choke out of me.
Memories pierce my thoughts, dragging me back to the night my mark appeared. I ran to Father. Showed him the hissing serpent. Anger marred his features as he grabbed my arm and shoved it toward the light of a single torch.
“It’s a curse,”he shouted.
“Why?”I had begged.
“Because you are of her. You have always been of her.”
“Father.”
His slap against my cheek had silenced my next question. I learned not to ask anymore. Instead, I hid the mark, as he demanded. Except for Malachi. One day, I showed him, and I told him what Father said.
It is my blemish.
Never once have I understood it.
Sadness sparks in Malachi’s eyes as his gaze shifts over my shoulders. I turn, meeting Gabriel’s intense stare as he walks through the couples. They jerk out of his way as he moves with long, determined strides and stops in front of us.
“Dance with me,” he says, his tone commanding.
My first thought is to deny him. Knowing his people would observe my rejection, I simply nod.
He offers his hand, and I accept, allowing him to bring me into the middle of the dancing couples.
We only move to the beat of the music for a few moments before he leans down, speaking near my ear. “Why were you talking to Malachi?”
“He spoke to me. I spoke back,” I say evenly.
Gabriel lowers his hands to my waist and draws me even closer, close enough to feel the power beneath his surcoat. “You looked different.”
“I didn’t.” The denial scorches my lips. Thingsaredifferent with Malachi. They always were.
“I have known you long enough to know when you look different. What is your relationship with him?”
“I have no relationship with him.” At least, not for four summers.
Gabriel scoffs. “He’s not Bloodstone, and he’s only been here for a few brief summers. So, again, I ask you. What is your relationship with him?”
“He’s not Bloodstone?” I lift my gaze to Gabriel’s and raise my brow in a questioning manner, feigning naivety.
Warmth sears my thin surcoat as Gabriel tightens his grip. “Stop pretending and speak plainly with me. What is your relationship with him?”
Anger rips through me as I stand taller, barely managing to reach Gabriel’s shoulders. “I have no relationship with Malachi.”
“Hades!” Gabriel comes to an abrupt stop and reaches for my hand. Before I process his actions, he leads us through the dancing couples.
They scramble to move out of his way as he guides us down the center. I clench my lips together and try to keep my chin lifted, but I know how pitiful I must look being led by the angry warrior.
I don’t protest as he leads us away from the square. Away from the people. The stares. The wide-eyed looks. Away from Malachi and all our secrets.
Gabriel opens our front door and beckons me inside. Frustration seeps through me as we step in our cottage, and he shuts the door. I did nothing wrong. I simply spoke to Malachi. Gabriel acts as if I allowed Malachi liberties.
I stand with my back to the wall and meet the fierceness still burning in Gabriel’s eyes.
“Has he kissed you?” The question comes out in a lash of anger and jealousy.
