Book 18: That's Not My Name

Alex

Skye doesn’t turn around. I slide my phone free from my pocket, noticing the three missed calls from Toby and the dozen other notifications from my horrified colleagues, but I ignore them, taking three steps and setting my phone on my desk.

I look at Skye, taking in the way her hair shimmers in the lamplight when she turns to watch me move. Her eyes gleam like polished amethyst, swirling with power so different from mine.

She’s right. I’ve been weak. I’ve kept myself weak. I’ve kept her at arm’s length even though everything I want is right in front of me, and for the first time in my life, I considered risking someone’s safety to have something for myself.

“I haven’t been honest with you.”

“I know,” she snarls–trying to look furious. But tears shine along her lower lashes.