“I’m not afraid of you,” I tell him. “You are.” He sighs, setting his chin on my hair. “I’ve seen it in your eyes.” “Maybe sometimes,” I concede. “Especially at first. Less often now.” I try to keep the next words back, but they slip out anyway. “Have you told any of the Favored about this?” He shakes off my embrace and glares at me. “The telling of a tale doesn’t make you special.” I should be hurt by that caustic comment, but instead a smile spreads over my face. I can’t stop grinning. “I’m the only one you’ve told.” “Don’t look so damn pleased with yourself.” He’s trying to be stern, but I
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