Crush (Crave #2) - Tracy Wolff Page 0,166

do something…” I search for the right words. “I feel like I should be able to fix this.”

“Flint knows it’s too late, Grace. Now he’s just trying to figure out how to deal with the disappointment. Let him.”

There’s a layer of undercurrent there that I can’t even begin to unpack right now. Lia? I wonder. How weird must it be to know that your mate loved you so much that she died to bring you back? But also, how awful.

“I already told you—she wasn’t my mate.” Hudson’s voice cuts like a switchblade. I wait for him to say more, but he doesn’t. At least not about Lia. “You’re right, though. Flint probably shouldn’t have brought you into his mess.”

“It’s not a mess. It’s how he feels,” I say, looking around to make sure no one can hear me. They’re all used to watching me talk to empty space and pay me no mind. Still, I keep my voice extra low. “He can’t help how he feels.”

I’m still wondering about all the weird vibes I’m picking up from Hudson about Lia. Not that I’m going to push or anything. One painful relationship confession a day is already more than I can take…

“The two aren’t mutually exclusive, you know,” he says in the super-snooty British accent he gets only when he’s trying to make me feel childish…or trying to piss me off. “Emotions are absurdly messy all the time.”

“Is that why you don’t let yourself have any?” I shoot back. “Because they’re too messy for you?”

There’s another long silence. Then, “Do try to keep up, Grace. I have plenty of emotions. Mostly loathing, at the moment, but a feeling’s a feeling.”

I roll my eyes. “You’re never going to change.”

“Oh, if only that were true.” He quirks a brow. “Better hurry with those drinks. The hoard is getting restless.”

Before I can answer, Flint calls, “Hey, do you need some help?” Or, in other words, Where’s my drink?

“Nope, I’ve got it,” I tell him, grabbing a Dr Pepper for myself before piling all the drinks up and carrying them back over to the coffee table.

“So the assembly to get the bloodstone is tomorrow afternoon,” Macy says once I’m settled back down between her and Jaxon. “Next item is the dragon bone. We should get that before the assembly starts.”

“If we go tomorrow, Gwen won’t be able to join us,” Mekhi says. “I stopped by the infirmary to check on her before we came up here and she’s doing better, but Marise says she is definitely out of commission for a day or two.”

“Poor Gwen,” I commiserate. “Her arm looked awful.”

“It was awful,” Mekhi agrees.

“She’ll hate missing the Boneyard,” Macy says. “But we need to get this done so we can move on to the next item.”

“Wait a minute, go back.” Eden looks at Flint. “Is this why you were asking about the Boneyard?” When he nods, she asks, “What do you need a dragon bone for?”

I think about blowing off her question, but the truth is all eight of us won the bloodstone. If only a few of us claim it for a prize, we’re going to look like real jerks.

Jaxon must feel the same way, because he answers, “We entered the tournament because we need the bloodstone for a really important spell. But we also need a few other things as well—including a dragon bone.”

“A dragon bone,” Eden muses before she turns to Flint with wide eyes. “From the Boneyard? You’re actually taking them to the Boneyard?”

“They have to go,” he tells her. “What am I supposed to do? Just let them wander around down there and hope they don’t die?”

“Wander down where?” Macy squeaks, and now she’s the one with wide eyes. “What kind of place are you taking us to?”

“The magical kind that doesn’t want non-dragons to visit,” Eden answers. “Or even dragons, for that matter.”

“Yeah, well, unfortunately, we don’t have a choice,” Jaxon tells her grimly, and then he fills the whole group in on the details of my situation.

“So,” Xavier says, leaning forward so our gazes are locked. “He’s in there right now?” He taps the side of my head gently.

“Does he think he can shake me out?” Hudson asks dryly. “Or is he just trying to stare longingly into my eyes?”

A little bit of both, maybe? I answer, because seriously. Who does that?

“Yes,” Jaxon says, sliding forward so he can stop Xavier before he gives me a concussion. “He is. And the only way to get him out

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