Read Online Atone: A Fairytale (Fairytale Trilogy) by Jessica Grey - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Jessica Grey
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could see his reflection.
Nicholas.
Nicholas as she remembered him. Dark hair waved back from his broad forehead; it was cut a bit too long, the ends brushing his square jaw. His mouth had always annoyed her; it could slide so easily into a charming smile that she knew the smile had to be fake. Most often when he had looked at her, though it had been twisted into a frown, or a patronizing smile that frustrated her more than the charming half-grin he had used so often on others to get his way. His lips weren’t smiling now, they were pressed firmly together as if he were steeling himself to face something unpleasant.
He was almost painfully attractive. Becca had seen women literally stop in their tracks to stare at him. Even Alex had been deceived by his good looks for years. His masculine beauty affected Becca slightly differently. Maybe it was because of the string of handsome losers her mom had dated for as long as Becca could remember. Men who had used their looks to manipulate and hurt. She’d seen those tendencies in Nicholas. He’d manipulated people with his smile and his startlingly blue eyes.
He looked the same as he had two years ago.
Yet entirely different.
He wasn’t looking into the mirror. His gaze was trained firmly on the wall to their left.
“Look,” Becca commanded without taking her own eyes from the reflection.
When he turned his eyes toward the mirror, Becca was almost sorry she had asked. His eyes were the same. The same clear almost-navy ringed with silver that Becca had once informed Alex had to be contacts because that color could not possibly occur in nature. Now that she had seen him in beast form, she knew they hadn’t been contacts. Those eyes had stared at her out of his wolf-like face. But now instead of appearing bored, or annoyed, or even mildly amused, as they had when he’d worked at the museum, or filled with frustration and anger as they had been since she’d first seen him as a beast, they looked tortured—filled with horror and revulsion at what he saw before him.
Regret shot through her. Regret, and something that felt like pity. It must have shown in the reflection of her own much darker eyes, because he snarled. “Don’t. Don’t you dare pity me.” His grip on her arm tightened, becoming uncomfortable. “You should fear me, but you’ve never done what you should. I could make you.”
“It’s pretty hard to make me do what I don’t want to,” Becca answered, proud that her voice hadn’t cracked. She didn’t take her eyes off the mirror but found the reflection of his eyes and held it with her own.
He laughed. It was an angry sound, but Becca could hear the desperation lurking behind the anger.
“You're so small—so fragile and defenseless, I could snap you in two right now before you could even think to defend yourself.”
“I’m not completely defenseless,” Becca reminded him. As if in response, the hazy aura of her magic glowed brighter in the mirror, coalescing into the form of violets. Each flower had a deep purple center, the color flowing out across the petals into a lighter lavender and ending finally in a gauzy golden rim.
“Yeah, your flowers. But could your magic stop me if I decided to end your life here and now, with no warning? If I decided I’ve had enough of your interfering and game-playing?”
Becca didn’t answer right away, she wasn’t sure she had an answer. Her power may be strong enough to stop him, if she had ready and easy access to it. She’d been able to best him in their struggle the day before, but he’d given her plenty of warning. Even two years before, during their battle with Briar Rose, she’d never been able to access her magic as fully as Alex had. But then she’d never had a reason, a desperate need. Alex had.
The look in Nicholas’s eyes told her that he could see her answer, even if she wasn’t saying it aloud. He didn’t look any happier about it; if anything, his eyes looked more tortured, as
Nicholas.
Nicholas as she remembered him. Dark hair waved back from his broad forehead; it was cut a bit too long, the ends brushing his square jaw. His mouth had always annoyed her; it could slide so easily into a charming smile that she knew the smile had to be fake. Most often when he had looked at her, though it had been twisted into a frown, or a patronizing smile that frustrated her more than the charming half-grin he had used so often on others to get his way. His lips weren’t smiling now, they were pressed firmly together as if he were steeling himself to face something unpleasant.
He was almost painfully attractive. Becca had seen women literally stop in their tracks to stare at him. Even Alex had been deceived by his good looks for years. His masculine beauty affected Becca slightly differently. Maybe it was because of the string of handsome losers her mom had dated for as long as Becca could remember. Men who had used their looks to manipulate and hurt. She’d seen those tendencies in Nicholas. He’d manipulated people with his smile and his startlingly blue eyes.
He looked the same as he had two years ago.
Yet entirely different.
He wasn’t looking into the mirror. His gaze was trained firmly on the wall to their left.
“Look,” Becca commanded without taking her own eyes from the reflection.
When he turned his eyes toward the mirror, Becca was almost sorry she had asked. His eyes were the same. The same clear almost-navy ringed with silver that Becca had once informed Alex had to be contacts because that color could not possibly occur in nature. Now that she had seen him in beast form, she knew they hadn’t been contacts. Those eyes had stared at her out of his wolf-like face. But now instead of appearing bored, or annoyed, or even mildly amused, as they had when he’d worked at the museum, or filled with frustration and anger as they had been since she’d first seen him as a beast, they looked tortured—filled with horror and revulsion at what he saw before him.
Regret shot through her. Regret, and something that felt like pity. It must have shown in the reflection of her own much darker eyes, because he snarled. “Don’t. Don’t you dare pity me.” His grip on her arm tightened, becoming uncomfortable. “You should fear me, but you’ve never done what you should. I could make you.”
“It’s pretty hard to make me do what I don’t want to,” Becca answered, proud that her voice hadn’t cracked. She didn’t take her eyes off the mirror but found the reflection of his eyes and held it with her own.
He laughed. It was an angry sound, but Becca could hear the desperation lurking behind the anger.
“You're so small—so fragile and defenseless, I could snap you in two right now before you could even think to defend yourself.”
“I’m not completely defenseless,” Becca reminded him. As if in response, the hazy aura of her magic glowed brighter in the mirror, coalescing into the form of violets. Each flower had a deep purple center, the color flowing out across the petals into a lighter lavender and ending finally in a gauzy golden rim.
“Yeah, your flowers. But could your magic stop me if I decided to end your life here and now, with no warning? If I decided I’ve had enough of your interfering and game-playing?”
Becca didn’t answer right away, she wasn’t sure she had an answer. Her power may be strong enough to stop him, if she had ready and easy access to it. She’d been able to best him in their struggle the day before, but he’d given her plenty of warning. Even two years before, during their battle with Briar Rose, she’d never been able to access her magic as fully as Alex had. But then she’d never had a reason, a desperate need. Alex had.
The look in Nicholas’s eyes told her that he could see her answer, even if she wasn’t saying it aloud. He didn’t look any happier about it; if anything, his eyes looked more tortured, as
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