Gypsy Moon (All The Pretty Monsters #4)(29)

“Doesn’t matter. I’m sincerely fucking sorry, and I hate you being mad at me while you’re clearly falling hard for Vance.”

“You all pretend to be okay with sharing, and yet you make each interaction a competition. It’s very stressful,” she says as though she’s educating me. “If I really have to choose just one, then—”

“Whoa,” I cut in, waving my hand in front of her face and causing her to blink over at me. “No one is putting you to the test of choosing, especially when I’m in trouble without knowing why,” I quickly clarify.

She rolls her eyes and continues writing. “I wasn’t trying to manipulate you, Damien. I’m saying if I need to choose one, I will. I don’t want to be in the middle of a long feud that stays in a constant state of competition. It’s not—”

“We’re not important enough for you to fight for. I get it,” I say tightly.

She stops writing and huffs out a breath. “You do realize how confusing all this is for a novice, right?” she asks as she glares over at me. “Especially when you mix in monster parts. I struggle to even keep one human man interested.”

“Monster parts? Exactly what monster parts are the issue, sweet gypsy?” I ask, my grin growing as her adorable little scowl forms.

“Har. Har. Read the paper. Those monster parts.”

“Tell me what it says. I’m not reading your thoughts like we’re pen pals. It creates too much of an emotional distance, and there’s already too much of that,” I tell her, ready for any argument concerning the Neopry debacle.

Clearly she’s got retrospective anger over that if that’s her reason for being pissed at Emit.

She grabs my hand, and I happily follow her through the house and out the door.

“Tell me when they can’t hear me,” she says on a tired sigh over her shoulder.

“Keep walking until we get to my house,” I supply.

“They can hear that well?” she asks incredulously.

“No, but my house is better than Vance’s. I have a basement and blankets too, if that’s your—”

I shut right the hell up when she turns and glares at me.

“They shouldn’t be able to hear us from here,” I state as I point to where we are and give her a charming smile. “Why’s it so important they not overhear?”

“Because Arion is competitive, and I don’t want him doing something terrible just because you’re a self-centered asshole.”

I…am supposed to be old and wise…

This gypsy is the most confusing little pistol I’ve ever met.

“You love that I’m a self-centered asshole. It’s part of my charm, remember?” I try.

I fail, apparently, judging by her unimpressed and slightly angry stare.

Seriously, I need to feed more so I can stop struggling so hard in the one area of expertise I’m supposed to have.

“You deliberately made me think Arion left, because you see this—me—as some sort of competition, and the opposition shouldn’t get an advantage, right?”

I’m still…sort of confused.

Made her think Arion left? Ohhh…

“Are we discussing the werewolf brawl?” I guess, since that’s the only time I can remember hiding away Arion, who thought he was going to sneak in snuggle time while she was vulnerable.

That fucker is the reason she was vulnerable to begin with. Prick.

“Has there been another time when you hid him from my eyes because you’re a self-centered asshole?” she asks with frustration.

“I didn’t think you liked Arion,” I point out. “I thought the last thing you’d want is—”

“You wanted me to think he’d abandoned me because I’m some sort of prize you’re both racing to get. Arion was Idun’s pet, and you don’t want history repeating itself with the new girl,” she interrupts, causing me to bristle with how very on-the-nose she hits it, while also missing it broadly.

“I’m not sure what I’m defending exactly, but I do know you’re going to make whatever I have to say sound petty when you get your tongue around it, so I’m just going to stick with I’m sorry,” I say very sincerely, and give her a firm nod.

She almost looks a little…sad. Not mad. Not relieved. Just sad.

I really don’t like her with watery eyes, because it always makes me feel. Her emotions are like small tides that suddenly crash against you with more force than you expect.

“Arion was right beside me, and you made me think he’d left to let me bleed all alone, while werewolves surrounded me in my helpless state. It was more terrifying than I care to explain, and I was so focused on not panicking, coaching myself through each and every single moment of that to stay calm and awake, knowing fainting or passing out while I was stressed was possibly risky,” she says as her voice slightly wavers, and that hammer hits my chest as those tides crash with even more force than the last time.

My shoulders drop, as a harsh breath escapes me.

“You did that to me without even considering what I was going through in that moment, because it’s just another day to you. You’re an alpha. You knew what was going on. I was seeing the same illusion as the wolves, Damien, because you wanted to impress me with how much stronger you were.”