“Hey, Storym.”
Storym didn’t even look up, just nodded his head. He had heard the human
coming before he even reached the library. A nod was all he could manage
without attacking the surface dweller. Looking at Nick would have been nearly
impossible.
“Whatcha doin’?”
“Working.”
Storym knew his response was tight-lipped and stern. He couldn’t help it. He
was barely holding onto his control as it was. The more time he spent around
Nick, the less control he had. Why couldn’t Nick just leave him be?
Or
better yet, return to the surface world where he belonged? Nick had no
business being in Jinnistan. Storym didn’t care that Nick was supposed
to be one of the chosen ones. Every second spent in Jinnistan put
Nick’s life in danger. Storym couldn’t figure out why everyone else didn’t
understand that. It was clear as day to him.
“Oh,” Nick said simply. “Whatcha working on?”
Storym rolled his eyes when Nick strolled over to stand behind him, peering
over his shoulder. He sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose. “This is
important.”
“Anything I can help with?”
“No!” Storym barked out. He instantly regretted his sharply spoken words when
Nick winced and jumped back. The thought of being cooped up in the same room
with Nick for hours on end made Storym’s skin itch.
He
wouldn’t be able to hold onto his control if he was anywhere near Nick for a
prolonged period of time. The mere sight of the man was enough to make him
grit his teeth and run in the other direction.
“I’m sorry,” Nick said as he turned away. “I’ll just leave you alone then.”
“Look—”
“Why don’t you like me?” Nick asked as he spun around to stare intently at
Storym. “Have I done something to offend you in some way?”
“No, of course not, but—”
“Did I break a rule or something?”
“No, but—”
“Is it because I’m supposed to be a chosen one? Is that why you don’t like
me?”
“You know the chosen ones are revered by my people,” Storym said quickly.
“Your place in this world is well established. You can—”
“Then why do you keep avoiding me like I have the plague?” Nick’s head tilted
to one side. His forehead wrinkled as if he was in deep thought.
Storym held his breath as he waited for Nick to say something more. He was a
little shocked when Nick just shook his head and started to walk away again.
“It’s not that I don’t like you, I just—”
Nick paused at the doorway, but he didn’t turn. “It’s okay, Storym.” Nick’s
smile was a little sad as he turned around. His pale blue eyes seemed even
paler than usual. “Despite me being some proclaimed chosen one, nothing says
that you have to like me. I won’t bother you again.”
Nick walked out of the room before Storym could reply. Storym sighed and
leaned back in his chair. He so didn’t need this shit. He was supposed to be
going through the ancient scrolls to see if Clagh had missed anything.
He
wasn’t supposed to be worrying about the surface dweller, but he hadn’t been
able to get Nick out of his head since he first saw the man. The man intrigued
him. Hell, the man made him want to drop to his knees and beg for mercy.
Nicholas Patrick Dane was everything a Demonas Amaté should be, and he
was Storym’s. Storym just couldn’t claim him. He had no intention of bonding
himself to a surface dweller. In Storym’s book, that made Nick totally off
limits—no matter how much Storym craved the man.
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