"I would know it in any world, any life, any form, anywhere in time and space. I would die for these lavender eyes to glitter with warmth - anytime, anywhere."
His words constrict around my heart like golden barbs. The beauty of them excruciating.
...
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There is something so heady, so addictive in throwing a reverse uno, in counter-trapping. In throwing trickery at the face of the one who has been ensnaring you for a very, very fucking long time.
And this is not even the beginning, witch.
I look up at her with eyes full of confusion - I'm a good actor. But over everything, I'm a very desperate male, and a male who rejected his mate in a magical haze and now realises that she might be in worse danger than a threat to her life.
Sadly for Alyssandra and whoever else she is working with, my desperation fuels a burning, blinding fury within me, that is also somehow colder than ice. I'll slaughter without blinking if that's what brings my mate back to me.
Very dangerous combination.
But sitting here amidst this wreck of a kitchen right now, I pretend to somehow cower. Well, cower as much as my six-and-a-half feet frame might ever seem to cower.
"Ashton, are you alright?", Alyssandra's voice is sickeningly sweet, the concern in her eyes fake to a fault. I will certainly be the one ripping her heart out once I have Elle back in my arms.
For a moment my mind slips and wonders what might happen if I don't ever have her back.
I growl crawls up my chest and the urge to tear the entire world apart and rip everything and everyone to shreds before ripping my own heart out, claws my skin from within.
I reign in that very dangerous line of thoughts. I'll lose my mind if I even think of considering that possibility. It cannot be a possibility - I won't allow it to be.
"Alyssandra?", my voice is rough from the rage that hisses in my mind, but from the outside my eyes and my drawn shoulders easily make it sound like confusion.
The fucking witch frowns. Wow, look who's faking concern.
"Are you alright, Ashton? Did you have the tea? You could've just called me if Rauld was fussing over the mind-link or anything such.", she almost coos, as if talking to a child, and crouches to meet my eyes. She keeps a good distance from me, still not entirely certain if I have had the tea.
Good, stay the fuck away. Or I might happily begin a joyous slaughtering spree with you, that won't lead me to my mate. I need you alive and stupid till I have her back.
I don't let my murderous intentions reflect in my eyes. It's difficult, but certainly possible.
"I-", I make myself stutter, hoping to the Goddess that I'm not going too extra, "I was having this splitting headache, but I guess the tea helped."
I let my eyes sweep over the kitchen, feigning concern and also making sure that not a single drop or stain of my blood was left anywhere, and then say, "I'm sorry for the wreck."
