"*Completed*"I froze the first boy I ever kissed. And I don't mean he got cold feet..."
Megan is pretty unhappy when she's forced to move to a tiny, freezing town in Canada. It's going to be totally boring, right? Things heat up when she discovers t...
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The morning of my departure I met resistance of a different kind.
My father didn't show up as I was saddling the horse, but someone did, and when I turned to see them silhouetted in the doorway of the stable my heart felt like it was turning to stone in my chest.
Sylvi, dressed in a leather coat trimmed with fur, standing with her hands on her hips. "I'm coming with you."
"Like the hottest depths of hell you are."
Sylvi's expression turned from stubborn to pleading, and she widened her eyes. I was used to this, her turning on the waterworks when she was afraid of not getting her way. Already, her eyes were glistening, and she blinked furiously.
Anyone else would think she was bravely holding back tears, but I knew her. She was working herself up to cry. Sylvi is nothing, if not a great actress.
"Don't bother." I hitched the saddlebags tighter, tugging the straps in place. "Your crocodile tears don't work on me anymore."
"Why are you doing this?" Her voice hitched, right in the middle of her sentence. She was really getting into this role. "Why did you take the mission, Loki? Was it to get away from me?"
I looked up, startled, as she closed the distance between us, resting one hand on my warm.
"I know you still have feelings for me."
"You're joking me." I jerked back, away from her, snapping around to stare in disbelief. "You think this is about you? What, do you think everything I do is about you?" I threw my hands up. "I had pork chops for dinner last night because of you? You know that's insane, right?"
"Loki—"
'Don't bother."
I kicked my heels into the horses' side, gently, but enough to let him know I wanted to leave now. I didn't look back, either. I knew what she'd look like, and the transformation that would occur, I'd seen it enough times. She'd stand there with her hands clasped together, tears flowing down her face, sure I would look back and repent. When I didn't, that sad expression would turn narrow and cold and terrible, and her fury would be unleashed.
Sure enough, it only took a total of three minutes, and in the distance I could hear her shouting something at me. I was too far to hear what, and honestly, I didn't care to know.
The farther I rode from the stables, from her, the lighter I felt.
Like I was free of something at last. A weight on my shoulders, a vindictive spirit who had haunted my footsteps for the last few months.
