Page 65 of Vicious Desire (Fallen Royals 4)
He paces the faster girls, Skylar included, and I… I should be up there with them, but I’m not.
I save my speed for race days and early mornings.
It’s been exactly a week since I got in Eli’s truck and he took me to the diner. A week of awkwardness—on my part. Him? He’s been alternating between watching me like he’s trying to unlock a mystery and ignoring me.
The sad part is, I can’t decide which mood I like better.
I start my watch and increase my speed, my muscles stretching painfully. Today will be a short run—we did sprints yesterday, and everything hurts.
Everything.
Our first meet is tomorrow, which means a pasta dinner tonight at Skylar’s house. Eventually it’ll be my turn to host, but I’m hoping to push it off for as long as possible.
Maybe Mom will snap out of it before then.
I think of the past year and Mom’s slow withdrawal. We all watched it happen and were unable to do anything. She was silk sliding through our fingers, pulled by magic.
My heart squeezes at the thought of magic. I should go visit Gram. Maybe she’d have some advice.
The change of texture under my feet startles me, and I take note of my surroundings. I’m back on the trail through the woods, but it was automatic. I don’t remember consciously deciding to go this way…
Silently, I berate myself and slow to a stop.
If I’ve made it here, I’m already two miles in—and I still need to get home. Today was supposed to be easy.
I can walk back, I suppose.
Someone comes jogging up from the other direction, and I lift my hand in a wave as they pass.
The man doesn’t even look at me.
It’s like I’m the ghost.
My skin pricks, like someone is watching me. I whirl around and scan the tree line, but I can’t see anyone.
“Hello?” I call.
Nothing—of course. I wasn’t really expecting anything different.
I hurry home, breaking my resting rule. I only slow once I’m back on the sidewalk of my street. One of the neighbors passes me in his car and waves.
I force a smile and wave back.
It’s so fake, the smile rots away on my face before he’s even fully passed.
Once I’m back inside the house, my muscles relax. I get way too worked up on my runs now—it’s the reason I’ve been avoiding them as staunchly as I have.
I wander into the kitchen—first I need coffee, then a shower—and I’m shocked to see Noah at the coffee pot.
He spins toward me, two mugs in his hands, and grins. “I’m filling in for Dad today.”
I tilt my head. “Why?”
“He asked me to.”
I watch him. They don’t have the best relationship. And yet, I can’t really muster the energy to interrogate him about it. I take the cup he’s offering and sip it. It scalds my mouth and throat.
“Mace?” he asks. “I didn’t know you carried that.”