If I expected Blaise to explode, I was thoroughly let down. He held my gaze for a minute and then stood up. Walking across to his kitchen, he grabbed a flask from the fridge and nodded to himself.

“Well?”

He laughed, but there was nothing he found funny, I knew. “Well?”

“Aren’t you going to say anything?”

“What would you like me to say, Chyna?” He sat back down on the couch and took a long drag from the flask. It was Armand’s brew, the only thing that seemed to inebriate the dragons.

What did I want him to say? Everything. I wanted him to fight with me, fight for me. I knew it made zero sense. The rules we were sticking to were mine, after all. I’d pushed him away and made him keep his distance, except to make love to me—have sex with me—whatever. The past two weeks had done nothing to make leaving his side easier. Blaise wasn’t just an itch that needed scratching. I felt like he was more of a permanent situation that I had to figure out.

Whatever the case, I wanted him to fight. Things had been docile for weeks. We’d had little snippets of irritations, but I’d kept him so far away that there wasn’t much to fight about in the little time we spent together. That night, though, I was feeling volatile. I wanted to see him get angry. I wanted to push him into showing emotion.

Something about showing up to his house and him not being there had set me off. Then, the scent of perfume on him made me irate in a way that I couldn’t even begin to explain to myself.

“I’m glad I’m leaving. We both need some space.”

Blaise’s hands turned into fists, but his face remained calm. “If you are expecting me to be happy that you’re leaving, you will be disappointed.”

“You’ll have more time on your hands. Maybe you could hire a real maid.”

“I will be okay without it.”

“Oh, yeah? Find another mate who’s willing to clean up after you?” As I said it, I was embarrassed by how nasty and petty I sounded. I didn’t know what was wrong with me. It was like I’d become a different person since meeting Blaise in that bar. I was irritable and snarky more than anything, and I’d managed to run all my friends off. At least for the time being. I knew they’d come back when I was back to being myself, but I wasn’t even sure I wanted them to come back. That was how not myself I felt.

“There is no ‘finding another mate.’ There is only one mate for me. One queen.”

“And she happens to be me.” I scowled, unable to help myself. “Your one true mate who is supposed to do all of your cleaning for you.”

“I’m tired, Chyna. I do not have it in me to fight with you tonight.”

“What’s wrong?” Another thing I was unable to help. The idea of something being wrong with him upset me.

“It is nothing you want to hear.” He tucked his lips into his mouth and then blew out a big breath. “When do you leave?”

“I…” I hadn’t accepted the job yet. No matter how much I told myself to just take it, there was something holding me back. Something huge. Big as a dragon. “I don’t know.”

“Well, I’m sure Cherry will be sad to see you go. Especially with her getting closer and closer to having their youngling.”

I stood up and paced into his kitchen. “What about you?”

“What about me?”

“Will you be sad to see me go?”

Blaise followed me and wrapped his hands around my waist. “Sad? I am wondering how I will survive.”

I spun around on him and frowned. “I’m being serious.”

He raised his eyebrows and held my gaze. “Me, too.”

“This whole thing…” I wanted to tell him I was sorry. I’d hurt him more than once, I knew. I could feel it. I could feel him fighting the urge to grab me and keep me there. “This is a mess.”

Like the air had deflated out of him, Blaise slumped and forced a smile. “I do not know what you want from me.”

“Maybe, I should go home.”

He shrugged. “Whatever you want to do, Chyna. I am going to head out if you’re leaving.”

“Where are you going?”

“Out.”

“Back to another bar?”

Blaise gently took my wrist in his hand and pulled my palm to his lips. Pressing a kiss to my sensitive skin, he held it there for a second longer before letting go. “I want you to be happy.”

I wanted to ask him what he meant, but he turned and hurried out of the house before I could make sense of his words and the feelings of sorrow rolling off him. I ran after him, but he was already flying away by the time I got outside. I watched him go with my own sorrow growing in the pit of my stomach.

I had to leave. I couldn’t keep torturing Blaise, or myself. Taking the job in Florida would mean that I got to slip away from it all. I’d get some space and, surely, some closure. Time away from him would make it easier for both of us.

I didn’t know how I’d do it. Seeing Blaise every day had been the only way I’d kept myself sane. What I was feeling for him wasn’t normal, though. I couldn’t lose myself over some man. I refused to make the same mistake that I’d seen so many other women make. I’d been in the foster care system with so many kids whose mothers had made the same mistake. My own mother was one of them.

No matter how right it felt to be with Blaise, I couldn’t fall for that. I had to go.