Chosen One (Forever Evermore #6)(68)

I cleared my throat, ignoring the jibe. “Quit complaining and watch the show.” I pointed with my spoon, trying to disregard how he leaned even more on me after he rested his bare feet on the coffee table. “I like silence during a movie.”

His wolf huffed quietly while his scent enfolded me, his warmth surrounding. “Well, that’s one thing we have in common.” His large fingers started gently playing absently with my toes, and Prodigy toe ring, while I tried to concentrate on the movie. “Although,” he stated a few minutes later, shaking his head at the actor’s antics, his stony countenance starting to dissolve, “our choice in movies varies greatly.”

“Let me guess. You’re a blood and guts type of film lover?”

He chuckled quietly. “That was obvious.” His head tilted toward mine, and suddenly our faces were very close, his gaze instantly locking on mine. My heart stalled in my throat, and instantly, my mouth went dry as I started to fall into their complex depths, memories of our time together rushing me—the lie it had been, half his amazing features outlined in the light of the television, the other half shadowed in the darkness of the room. Much like the both of us in life. His smile slowly disappeared, his lips thinning, and he murmured softly, “I hate you so much you’re not my kind.”

I breathed a tortured, quiet chuckle. “And I hate you because you’re an unscrupulous asshole.”

We only continued to stare.

Heart stalling, I had to ask on a whisper, “Was any of it real?”

His lips thinned even more, his eyebrows slowly squeezing together.

“Right.” I cleared my throat, feeling it start to burn when he didn’t answer. “I under—” His finger against my lips stopped me.

“Don’t.” He shook his head slowly, little by little pulling his finger away from my lips. He ran a hand through his curls, turning his attention back to the television, giving me his profile, but his tone was still quiet when he spoke. “More than I’d like to admit was real.” I froze completely, and his gaze flicked to mine, holding. “But, you were still a job. I reported everything you told me in confidence to Elder Jacobs the minute I left you. My loyalties were not to you. I would have killed you in a heartbeat if I considered you a threat.”

I inhaled slowly. “And when you found out I was from the future?”

Simple words as he held my gaze. “I hated you even more.”

Tears filled my gaze, but I would be damned if I shed them in front of him. “I loathe you.” I hated so much he had used me. Had sex with me for his “in”. Hated the man he had been when I had thought him someone else.

The only consolation…his eyes. While his expression was absolutely neutral, they were just as tortured as mine. He held my gaze evenly, not flinching away from what he saw, and also, not hiding his own conflicted abhorrence. “As I despise you.”

I sniffed once, because it couldn’t be helped, and turned my attention from him, swallowing hard, and eating another bite, the food going down like sludge now.

“I won’t apologize, Caro.”

“As you’ve said.” I swirled a piece of bread in the remaining mashed potatoes. “Just like I’ll never feel anything but contentment for being an Elemental.” The spirit part was a burden, but out of all the Mysticals, I would still pick to be my faction, even given my current problems. Being an Elemental was part of who I was, part of what made me…me.

His wolf huffed quietly, then he turned his face to watch the show as I was. “So,” he cleared his throat softly, running his hand through his tight curls again, even as Isolde started to inch her way toward him, crawling stealthy, “what’s up with the tiger thing?”

My chuckle was harsh. “Don’t get your hopes up. I won’t be going furry.” Leric had explained it was just part of who we were, an integral part of our bone structure, making us stronger, but animalistic—tied to our emotions. “The tiger only erupts—sounds—under extreme feeling.”

His wolf huffed again more loudly, and after a moment he stated, “It also makes sense for Bindi’s assessment about,” his nose crinkled, “your mate’s body structure in King Collins’s report, which means you’re probably built much the same.”

I couldn’t comment on that, but I stated, “He’s my One. Not my mate.”

He grunted, his jaw ticking. “You have a damn bond, the closest thing two Mysticals can have magically. All the mate gifts, plus more. Not to mention you’re both incredibly possessive.” His fingers tapped on my feet, and it didn’t appear he noticed when Isolde crawled onto his lap. “You know I could take him, right? I won’t say anything about Sin, because I know you care deeply for him, so I won’t say I could take him too…since that’s a given, but,” his gaze flicked to mine, hard and cold, then back to the television, “you know I can take your mate, right?”

Instant. “My One, not my mate.” But, I stared, not believing what I was seeing or hearing. “Is this like one of those dick measuring contests?”

He snorted hard, arrogantly and confidently. “My dick’s definitely bigger than his.” He flicked a finger at me as I continued to gape at the side of his face. “Back to the issue. I’m not frightened of him. We’re of a like age, but I’m a wolf.” Said wolf growled a bit as if I had forgotten this. “I could rip his head off—”