Page 36 of Plus-Size Sold Mate
Instinctively, I don’t want to let this sway me in any way, but at the same time, it’s an oddly endearing gesture for someone still trying to accept magic himself. Just the other day, he tried scolding me for having a book on magic. Now look at him.
For a moment, neither of us speaks as we pore over the contents, rearranging everything on the table to get a better look. It’s one part taking stock and the other is keeping my hands busy.
Then, I look at her again. “This stuff doesn’t freak you out at all?”
Eve blinks back at me, then shakes her head. “Not really. They’re just plants.”
“But they could be used to bring harm if I ever felt like it, as your pack wants you to think, anyway.”
Surprisingly, she releases a huffed breath that sounds more amused than anything. “That is what they want me to think, but it isn’t. I don’t think you’re a danger to us, Sera.”
I don’t mean to let them, but my eyes soften. “You don’t?”
“Of course not,” she says without hesitation, expression full of sincerity, and not the false kind Naia used to show me. “I know all of this isn’t easy. You being here suddenly, and being bonded.”
“That’s putting it lightly,” I murmur, leaning against the island countertop. “Nobody really knows me, yet they’ve already decided what I am.”
“And it’s wrong, which is why I’m here, trying to get to know you myself,” Eve says, far too gentle for her own good. “I won’t pretend like I know how it feels to be in your position, but I do know what it’s like to have to prove yourself twice as hard. Having brothers who excel at everything will do that to you.”
Even if our situations are very different, sensing the vulnerability she tries to return to me helps melt a little more of my resistance. At the very least, her company doesn’t make me feel quite so alone.
Eve takes a breath, like shedding the thoughts from her shoulders, and she gestures to the items spread out on the counter. “I guess you could consider this a peace offering. I think my brother’s using his brain after all.”
I almost laugh at that. “You’re giving him a lot of credit.”
“I know my brother,” she returns lightly, just barely nudging my arm with hers. “He can be stubborn and infuriating at times, and he thinks he can fix everything…but he’s not careless. He wouldn’t do this for no reason.”
“He’s still trying to convince the pack to accept magic. It could just be a political move to make me less resistant.”
Eve cocks a brow at me, like she isn’t sure if she should be surprised or amused. “I’m not so sure dried lavender and sage are political maneuvers.”
When I don’t say anything, knowing she’s probably right, she sits down on one of the stools and props her chin on her palm. “So…are you going to show me what this stuff does?”
I pause. “You want to know?”
“Of course I do. It looks like Christmas morning in here, I’m curious.”
She says it so warmly, and like I should already know. It catches me off guard, but at the same time, I realize how rare this is. Someone wants to learn more about magic, and not to exploit it, or to twist it into something to be feared.
Then, feeling a little more relaxed, I allow a small smile to settle on my face and start explaining as best as I can. I give her enough information so she can make sense of it, but I don’t indulge too many secrets.
She listens and asks questions with genuine curiosity, and not once does it feel forced or like she’s just humoring me.
We spend a while talking, and I share more than I expect to. Rather than being a spectacle, everything about this seems so real. When she leaves, Eve gently squeezes my hand, leaving behind a spark that feels like a promise of friendship. I don’t remember the last time I had that.
“I’m glad you’re here,” she says, with a warm smile lingering even as she goes.
On her way out, I don’t know if that’s true for anyone else, but knowing she is changes more than I want to admit.
***
Luke returns just before sunset, shutting the door behind him with tension in his shoulders like something is still clinging to him even now.
His gaze finds me where I’m sitting on one of the couches with the journal in my lap, having copied down a few notes from memory that I don’t want to forget about. Then, he takes in the few items from the basket I have around me, too.
Whether he means to or not, his spine relaxes fractionally as he enters the room. “I see you got the gift.”
“I did,” I murmur, slowly closing the journal. My body locks up slightly in his presence, but I try not to make it so obvious. “You didn’t have to…but thank you.”
