Fate marked by blood

Atlas>>

She was angry. Not the hot, blazing kind—this was glacial. Her words cut like winter wind—one that almost rivaled the blazing cold of Avador itself.

The way she spoke to me—distant, detached, as if I was nothing more than a passing shadow—made my breath seize in my throat. She wouldn't look at me. Not even when I stared hard enough to burn holes into her turned cheek.

I had gone too far.

I knew it the moment she brushed past me with an air of indifference, the moment she turned her attention to Kaleb instead of me. A foreign, unwelcome feeling curled in my gut—jealousy, frustration, something dark and clawing. I couldn't stand it.

I sought answers in my mind for something to say, something to pacify her anger. But the truth lodged in my throat. How could I tell her I'd pulled away because I was terrified?