Read Online Betrayed by Kristin Cast, P.C. Cast - Free Book Online

“Oh, I was walking back from the stables and Nala and I decided to take a long-cut.” A long-cut? Had I really said that?
    I thought he’d looked tense when I’d walked up to him, but this made him laugh and his completely gorgeous face relaxed. “A long-cut, huh? Hello again, Nala.” He scratched the top of her head and she rudely, but typically, grumbled at him and then leaped neatly from my arms to the ground, shook herself, and still grumbling, padded delicately away.
    â€œSorry. She’s not very sociable.”
    He smiled. “Don’t worry about it. My cat, Wolverine, reminds me of a grumpy old man.”
    â€œWolverine?” I raised my eyebrows.
    His gorgeous smile went all crooked and boylike and, unbelievably, it made him even more handsome. “Yeah, Wolverine. He chose me as his when I was a third former. That was the year I was completely into the
X-Men
.”
    â€œThat name could account for why he’s so grumpy.”
    â€œWell, it could have been worse. The year before I couldn’t stop watching
Spider-Man
. He came within an inch of being Spidey or Peter Parker.”
    â€œClearly, you’re a great burden for your cat to bear.”
    â€œWolverine would most definitely agree with you!” He laughed again and I tried hard not to let his overwhelming hotness make me giggle hysterically like a pre-teen at a boy band concert. I was, for the moment, actually
flirting with him! Remain calm. Don’t say or do anything idiotic
.
    â€œSo, what are you doing way out here?” I asked, ignoring my mind babble.
    â€œWriting haiku.” He lifted his hand and I noticed for the first time that he was holding one of those cool, ultra-expensive leather-bound writer’s journals. “I find inspiration being out here, alone, in the hours before dawn.”
    â€œOh, gosh! I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to interrupt you. I’ll just say bye and leave you alone.” I waved (like a dork) and started to turn away, but he caught my wrist with his free hand.
    â€œYou don’t have to go. I find inspiration in more things than being out here alone.”
    His hand was warm against my wrist and I wondered if he could feel my pulse jump.
    â€œWell, I don’t want to bother you.”
    â€œDon’t worry about that. You’re not bothering me.” He squeezed my wrist before (sadly) letting it go.
    â€œOkay, so. Haiku.” His touch had left me ridiculously flustered and I tried to regain my facade of good sense. “That’s Asian poetry with a set meter count, right?”
    His smile made me ever so glad I’d actually paid attention in Mrs. Wienecke’s English class last year during the poetry unit.
    â€œThat’s right. I prefer the five-seven-five format.” He paused and his smile changed. Something about it made my stomach do a little fluttery thing, and his dark, beautiful eyes locked on mine. “Speaking of inspiration—you could help me out.”
    â€œSure, I’d be happy to,” I said, glad I didn’t sound as breathless as I felt.
    Still looking into my eyes, he lifted his hand so that it brushed my shoulder. “Nyx has Marked you there.”
    It didn’t sound like a question, but I nodded. “Yes.”
    â€œI would like to see it. If it wouldn’t make you too uncomfortable.”
    His voice shivered through me. Logic was telling me that he was only asking to see my tattoos because of how freakishly different they are, and that he was in no way coming on to me. To him I must seem nothing more than a child—a kid—a fledgling with weird Marks and unusual powers. That’s what logic was telling me. But his eyes, his voice, the way his hand was still caressing my shoulder—those things were telling me something completely different.
    â€œI’ll show it to you.”
    I was wearing my favorite jacket—black suede and cut to fit me perfectly.