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“WHAT THE HECK ARE YOU doing here?” Mike clenched his fists as he escorted Hunter past rows of windows towards the school gates.
“Visiting Skye.” Hunter’s anger simmered. It was only respect for Mike’s relationship to Skye that had Hunter falling in with Mike’s actions.
“Bad idea, mate.” Mike’s lowered tone didn’t disguise his animosity.
Hunter stopped, forcing Mike to stop too. “How so?”
“Haven’t you done enough?”
Hunter couldn’t reply for a few heartbeats, steadying his voice. “What is it you think I’ve done?”
Mike’s expression hardened, and he looked away. Hunter tensed. But when Mike met his eyes again, he had veiled the suspicion Hunter had seen.
“Went off and left her, of course,” Mike said levelly. “She would never have been out on that dinghy if she hadn’t been looking for you.”
But Hunter suspected the words didn’t match Mike’s true thoughts, despite the sincere anger colouring Mike’s last sentence.
“Then isn’t it good that I’m back?” he challenged. “If leaving was so painful for her, isn’t my return a good thing? Can’t it only make things better for her?” He didn’t believe his own words, but he prayed Mike would.
Mike took a deep breath, weighing his answer, scrutinising Hunter’s face. He seemed to deflate a little, but not enough to back down. “She’s lost her memory. Whatever may have been between the two of you, it’s over now. She doesn’t know you, and by the looks of it, she doesn’t want to know you.”
He held up a hand to stop Hunter’s protests. “And even if I’m wrong about that – which I’m not,” he stressed, “Any time she gets close to thinking about anything connected with –” he broke off, hesitating, then carefully continued, “anything connected with the weeks you were around, she suffers unbearable pain,” Mike pointed at his temple. He looked distraught, and Hunter felt wretched. Once again, inflicting pain on Skye and her family was what he did best.
“You keep away from her,” Mike’s voice dropped to a threatening mutter as he stepped closer, staring Hunter down. “You’re not welcome here, or anywhere near Skye. You hear me? Keep. Away.”
Hunter’s sympathy vanished, but he swallowed down his fury, fighting his desire to damage Mike and storm the building to reach Skye. “I’ll go now,” he replied quietly, “but the decision to see me, or to not see me, is Skye’s. Not yours. And not mine. Hers.”
Mike looked disconcerted, but Hunter didn’t wait for his response. Passing quickly out of the school gates, he made for the main road out of town back to Bannimor.
Any tentative acceptance he may have had from Skye’s uncle had clearly vanished along with Skye’s memory of him. Mike was just looking out for his niece. Hunter got that. But he was still an unexpected obstacle, and keeping them apart would only cause Skye pain.
He already felt the distance from her, the wound reopening. It killed him knowing each step he took hurt her as much as it hurt him. Whatever Mike wanted, this wasn’t over. The decision had to be Skye’s.
He reached the road, and held out his hand once more as he strode. He had to reveal himself to Skye properly, give her the choice before Jarrod took it from her. And prevent whatever else Jarrod might do.
His first, almost his only care, was Skye. In the sea, the lives had stopped leaving her. If they were all that was keeping her alive, she had to go back. And then there was his clan. His sense of responsibility for them felt as heavy as his broken city, crushing him. He couldn’t lightly abandon them to die. Another reason for Skye to return with him. And could Hunter not better protect the humans his people preyed on if he was there? There...in the prison he’d only just escaped from.
Whichever way he turned, the walls of Lithus and the endless ocean rose to swallow him.
