Page 21 of Marked
It was a valid question. A great one. I had no idea.
Originally, I’d tried to find Blake to give him a message for the queen, but he wasn’t home. When I started to head back, I heard the commotion of the bonfire and hesitated. Suddenly, I couldn’t stand the idea of staying cooped up in my cabin tonight...like the meek little mouse Ace always accused me of being. If I stayed in, I’d be confirming everything he already thought of me. Even though I knew I shouldn’t care what he thought, it still bothered me. I stayed. He left. This was my town.
I scanned the faces of the group gathered around the bonfire, acknowledging anyone who met my gaze with a nod. I was familiar with everyone in town, and the thought of someone among us stealing made my stomach turn. I might not like a lot of the residents, and more than a few of them disliked me, but a thief? I couldn’t wrap my brain around one of our own stealing from the community.
As the flames of the bonfire swayed and crackled, orange and red light played across the faces of the crowd. With a confident stride, Ace moved through the gathering, his fluid grace giving away his training as a fighter. His dark eyes reflected the orange glow of the fire as he scanned the crowd and took in his surroundings.
He wore leather hunting pants and a matching vest. A dark cloak hung over his shoulders and swished behind him as he moved. The metal handles of the daggers strapped to his thigh glinted in the orange light with each step.
He looked dangerous.
And way too alluring considering he was such a jerk.
Next to me, Sley released a low whistle, her gaze fixated on him like a predator stalking its prey. As she relaxed her tense posture, a faint smile crept onto her lips. “Who’s that?”
“Actaeon,” I said.
“Hunter?”
“Yes.”
“Maybe I’ll abandon my dreams of a phaanon warrior and settle for a ripped hunter new to town.”
I hesitated and tried to shake off the tension in my shoulders. Objectively speaking, he was a good-looking man. But he certainly wasn’t the phaanon warrior of Sley’s dreams with a nine-inch schlong.
“What?” Sley pressed. “Are you already banging him? Phaan. That’s just not fair.”
“I am not banging Ace.”
Sley studied my face and sighed. “But you want to.”
“Absolutely not,” I said. “Don’t let me hold you back from your dreams.”
Sley shook her head. “Besties before bangs, my love. Who is he?”
I sighed. Sley had always been good at reading people. “Remember when I mentioned my old friend from when I was a teenager?”
She straightened and narrowed her eyes. “The guy who vanished after telling you he loved you?”
“Yeah.” I gestured toward Ace with a wave of my hand. “That’s him.”
Sley rocked back on her heels, her mouth dropping open. “Well, he’s officially on my shit list. And also officially off limits.”
“That’s not necessary.”
Sley shrugged, but she’d already made a decision. I could tell. She always made up her mind with a sense of finality. Like when she decided we’d be best friends. She pegged me as the village introvert, adopted me as her best friend and declared that we were friends forever. I’d never been happier to have no say in a matter.
My attention drifted back to Ace in time to watch Maria, the baker, glide over to him and hook her arm around his waist. Her plump lips turned up in a mischievous smile, and a sharp pang of jealousy stabbed my chest.
Sley tensed next to me. “Guess we hate Maria now.”
“No, we don’t.” I sighed and tried to shake the agitation clinging to my spine. “We’re not going to hate another woman just because she has her own dreams and desires. She’s not intentionally trying to hurt me. Besides, I love her pastries, especially the cinnamon rolls.”
“Sure, but...we could despise her.” Sley bit her lip. “Maybe even a little.”
I shook my head, and Sley let out a frustrated sigh.
“You’re always so reasonable,” she groaned.