Page 37 of Marked
“Jealous, Mouse?”
“Not at all.” But I was and I hated my traitorous heart for feeling anything other than hatred for this man. “Let’s go.”
14
The sound of crickets filled the night air, along with the gentle rustle of leaves from a cool breeze. The disappearing sun cast the forest in muted colours that darkened with each step. A large hunter’s moon hung in the sky, perfect for lighting the narrow deer path I followed through the forest.
Ace lumbered behind me, occasionally cursing when his boot caught a rock or upturned root.
“You’re about as quiet as a stampeding herd of horses,” I muttered. He might be great at hitting targets, but he needed to work on stealth. “Are you trying to hit everything on the path?”
“Why are we hunting at night?” he asked. “This is stupid. We should be using daylight.”
I pushed a branch to the side of a narrow section on the already narrow path and walked past. With a smile, I released the branch in time for it to snap back and slap Ace across the face.
He grunted and grabbed the branch in his large hand. The snap of wood echoed through the forest. “Cute.”
I thought so.
In our youth, we’d stuck to hunting during the day and this little jaunt through the woods confirmed my theory that Ace hadn’t worked on any night hunting skills since he left.
Had all his training focused on hitting targets?
He moved with the fluid grace of a fighter and if I had to bet my last gale, I’d guess he’d spent time training as a warrior.
So far, though, I had only suspicions, no facts. But Ace was hiding something.
“Hunting requires stealth,” I said. “I’m relying on senses other than sight. This is the perfect opportunity for me to see what I’m working with.”
“And you didn’t see that during our friendly competition?”
“Sometimes shooting an arrow is the easiest part,” I said. “There’s more to hunting than that.”
“I’d like to point out that I’m perfectly capable of stealth in a familiar area or a city, day or night,” he said.
“Of course. There’s no need to get your ego in a bunch.”
He cursed but walked along the path for another few steps before speaking again. “Now that you find me lacking, are you going to go back to your brother and argue some more about not wanting me as your partner?”
I cringed, my step faltering. With a shake of my head, I continued forward, hoping Ace remained too focused on not tripping to notice.
The more I thought about it, the more I realized how his first impression of me when he returned to Perga really was one of an entitled brat. I could’ve handled the situation better. With maturity. Instead, one look at his stupidly handsome face and I was ricocheted all the way back to an angsty teenager.
I’d insulted him and tried to get out of the partnership, but it wasn’t like we didn’t know each other, and it wasn’t like he didn’t have some answering to do. So almost immediately after feeling bad for my knee-jerk reaction, rage consumed me. I kept waffling between regret for my behaviour and justifying my anger.
And I did not waffle.
I was stronger than that.
I usually just killed shit.
“Look,” I said. “I’m sorry about how I greeted you. My reaction to your return had little to do with you as a hunter or partner so much as the heavy-handedness of it all. I should’ve pulled Paul aside to have a private conversation, and I should’ve considered your feelings. I’m sorry.”
Silence answered me and I resisted the urge to spin around to see his expression.
Ace cleared his throat. “Thank you, but you didn’t answer the question.”
What question? I ran through the last bit of our conversation in my head. “No, I’m not going to demand more changes. You might move loudly through the forest at night, but that’s something I can work with.”