Mist's Edge (The Broken Lands #2) - T.A. White Page 0,67

something that only happened when her temper started unfurling. She wasn’t the best at speaking and sharing. When angry it was just that much worst.

After turning the words over in her head, she came to a decision. If he wanted to be an asshole warlord, he could damn well sleep alone. She rolled away from him in a sharp movement, getting out of bed.

His sigh was angry. “Where are you going?”

She didn’t answer, grabbing a blanket from the end of the bed and her pillow. The partition had been partially repaired from his fit earlier, but it was still a little wobbly. She was careful as she pushed it aside, not wanting to deal with having their private space exposed to the communal side until the partition could be fixed.

“Shea.”

“You wanted to discuss it tomorrow, Fallon. We’ll discuss it tomorrow. Until then, have fun sleeping alone.”

With those parting words she stalked into the other chamber and threw her pillow on the ground before settling down and pulling her blanket over her. She’d only been lying there for a few seconds before a pair of arms swooped down, picking her up, blanket and all.

Shea found herself against Fallon’s chest being carried back to their bedroom.

“This is familiar,” he murmured in her ear as he kicked the partition away, not being nearly as careful as she’d been.

“Yes, and not in a good way.”

“We sleep together.”

“Do we talk to each other too?” Her voice held an acerbic edge. She didn’t enjoy when he dictated how things would be.

“Tomorrow, Shea.”

“So, it doesn’t matter what I want?”

He set her on the bed and climbed in after her, dragging the covers over them. He didn’t answer. Shea took that as a no. Fine then, if that’s how he wanted to play this.

She wiggled out of his arms and turned her back on him. Pressed up against the edge of the bed, she held herself as stiffly as possible, attempting to exude anger through every line of her body. She might not have a choice about sleeping elsewhere but that didn’t mean she wasn’t going to act like nothing was wrong.

His arm wrapped around her, and he attempted to slide her across the bed. She batted it off, before turning and pushing him away.

“No. Keep to your own side.”

She turned back to the edge, curling up until she was as far away from him as possible.

“Shea.”

“No, you wanted to talk tomorrow; we’ll talk tomorrow.”

This time it was his angry sigh that filled the air. The mattress moved as he turned onto his side to face away from her. The dark was filled with the things that went unsaid. Hurt feelings so thick that it felt like Shea would suffocate on them.

Despite it being her who had insisted on distance between them, Shea had never felt so alone. Her eyes stung as she stared at the shadowed canvas. It was a long time before she drifted back to sleep.

*

It was a slow progression to wakefulness for Shea. She woke to find herself curled into a ball with the undeniable feeling of being watched. Opening her eyes, she turned her head to find Fallon dressed and looking at her with an enigmatic gaze.

She closed her eyes and dropped her head back onto her pillow. For a brief moment, she was tempted to go back to sleep. It felt way too early for the confrontation she could feel brewing.

With a groan, she sat up and blinked at Fallon. A yawn cracked her face, the sleepless night leaving her slightly groggy.

She leaned back on one hand as she met Fallon’s gaze. His emotions were locked down tight.

“It’s morning,” he said.

“That it is. You going to tell me what had you acting so dickish last night?”

He raised one eyebrow at her crude language. She raised an eyebrow right back at him, challenging him to say something about it.

Wise man that he was, he moved on. “Why didn’t you tell me how dangerous it was for you to find me in the mist?”

Shea froze, all thoughts coming to a standstill. She stared at him, her eyes wide. Of all the things for him to ask her, he chose that. Why?

Her words were a long time coming. “You knew it was dangerous.”

“Did I?” There went the eyebrow again. His body was tightly controlled as he tapped one finger against his leg. “I don’t think I did.”

She bent her knees and wrapped her arms around them. The urge to get up and walk out, to