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Mounting Frustration
Maerilee I throw myself onto my bed, face-first into the pillows, and scream as loudly as I can. My voice muffles into the fabric, but it doesn’t stop the frustration, the disbelief, the absolute rage building in me. My legs kick out violently, my fists pound into the bed, and I keep screaming until my throat feels raw and my chest is burning. River. River. How could this be happening? Of all the people in the world, of all the fae, it’s him? The arrogant, smug River? No. It’s impossible. He can’t be my One, he just can’t. I flip over, grabbing another pillow and pressing it to my face, screaming again. Hot tears burn at the corners of my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. I won’t cry over this. I can’t. But the anger swirling in my chest feels too big, too overwhelming. How could t
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