“It’s hard to share your troubles with other people,” I say lightly. “But I’m not other people. I’m your fated mate, and if that means something to you, then you should learn how to tell me what’s bothering you.”
Like a child, Darian buries his face in my neck, muffling his words. “I don’t want you to think I’m weak.” His voice is quiet and oddly vulnerable.
“No matter what happens, I doubt that’s what I’ll ever think of you. ‘Weak’ isn’t on my list of adjectives if I were to describe you. You are very annoying, though.”
He lets out a bark of laughter. “Of course you would consider me annoying. How could I expect anything different from you?”
“I also think you’re very handsome,” I add defensively.
That has him grinning. “Handsome? You no longer think I’m pretty? Should I be offended?
