Total pages in book: 134
Estimated words: 126030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 630(@200wpm)___ 504(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 126030 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 630(@200wpm)___ 504(@250wpm)___ 420(@300wpm)
“I get it about building a reputation, upholding the image despite the warnings, and then needing a big alpha gargoyle to track you down in the middle of the night when you have your hands tied behind your back, and a bag over your head, to fly you to safety.” She nodded at him, her eyes serious and laughing at the same time. “Yeah. That’s what hanging on our laurels gets us in this new world.”
She shrugged it away, so easy and light and carefree while also dangerous and cunning and intelligent. John could see why Tristan was in rapture.
“Look, Sir Ego, Austin couldn’t do this on his own, either. Ask him. He’ll tell you point blank. Jessie couldn’t, and she wouldn’t want to. As a team? Yes. Together, they make magic. Rather than comparing yourself, maybe ask why you care? And if it’s for any decent reason, like the safety of your sisters, then maybe ask what you could bring to the table.” She grinned without looking at him. “Sounds like you have a bunch of sway with that Ol’ Image you’ve worked so hard for. Austin doesn’t have that, and he probably needs it. Maybe that will take the bite out of the humble pie?”
He grinned, back to shaking his head. “You seem to have a talent for managing big personalities. If anyone had spoken to me like that back in the day…”
“And yet you’re about to laugh.”
“Somehow.”
“Hmm,” she answered noncommittally. “Sometimes it’s nicer not to take things so horribly seriously.”
Wasn’t that the truth. He needed to go hang out with Fred again. Even when she was serious, it was hilarious.
He shoved all this from his mind. He didn’t want to think about it anymore. He wanted to disappear again and walk away from the troubles and complexities of magical life. Same as Jessie wanted to do, really. That’s what Ulric had said. Aurora had verified. Same as Austin, apparently.
Except they weren’t doing that, were they? They were stepping up and shouldering the danger.
And you chose, and choose, to be a hero.
“Okay. Now they’re rolling,” Nessa said, thankfully pulling him from his swirling thoughts. She finished what was in her mug.
He watched her out of the corner of his eye, his curiosity getting the better of him. “You must’ve made it home all right last night.”
Red infused her cheeks, and a shy little smile curled her lips. She half hid behind her mug, delighted with whatever had happened.
“I did, yes. Thank you for asking. Tristan had it covered.”
He nodded, needing to let it go. There was no reason to get involved in her—or Tristan’s—private life.
Yet…no one had mentioned which option Tristan had chosen. John was too curious for his own good.
“You guys are mates, right?” he hazarded.
She tensed. “No. I just keep away the swarms of women that follow him around so he can focus on his job—helping Jessie and getting things done, you know.”
“Ah. In other words, you woke up in your boots.” He chuckled for show.
“That’s not Tristan’s style,” she said softly, and her body turned languid with desire and something else he couldn’t put his finger on. “He puts on the gruff, ‘I’m an island’ persona, but in the end, I think he’s a caretaker. He put me in my fluffiest pajamas and tucked me into my bed, where I apparently snored so loudly that Sabby thought about smothering me in my sleep.”
John huffed out a laugh. So, Tristan had chosen the girl over the games. Good man.
“You need a guy like that guarding someone like Jessie, it sounds like,” he replied noncommittally. His curiosity had been sated. Time to move on.
She was silent, and he glanced at her. A sad expression flitted across her face and evaporated in a heartbeat as though it had never been there. She smiled at him, a disarming sort of expression to hide whatever she’d just been feeling.
“Jessie, yeah. She needs it.”
He got the feeling she didn’t want to talk about this anymore. And also, that her heart was hurting. He remembered what she’d said last night.
I’m scared.
He swallowed, turning his face away again. But something kept trying to tug his focus back. He wanted to console her. Maybe comfort her. Hell, he wanted to help her. He just didn’t know how.
Maybe he wanted to help himself, and didn’t know how to do that, either. He hadn’t been able to take a mate when he was fighting to keep his pack, and by the time he could’ve, he didn’t have anything left to give. He had a feeling Nessa had some parallels, certainly the same scarring. She seemed to have the same fear that life would never get better and good things were just a mirage. An angel with a broken wing.
Before he could think what to do or say, or maybe just throw himself off the cliff to get away from the awkward situation he’d created, a shock of magic ripped his focus toward the sky.