Page 14 of Touched By Death

My eyes lock with Ronan’s across the cafeteria, where he sits on top of a table with his elbows on his thighs and his feet on a chair. His brown eyes burn into me from beneath his dark lashes before he breaks eye contact to greet a male student, who clasps him on the shoulder. I study the stranger. Like other angels here, his wings end just above the back of his knee. Unlike mine, which trail the floor. I keep them tucked, but it’s hard to hide their impressive size. I’m not blind to the male attention it brings, much to Dmitriy’s amusement.

The guy loves nothing more than to slide his arm around my shoulders and bare his incisors at other males. It’s a game to him, and he chuckles every time they scurry away like frightened mice.

“Look…” Dmitriy turns his body to face me. “You need to keep your strength up. With wings like that”—he gestures at them pressed up uncomfortably against the wall behind me—“you’re bound to draw the wrong kind of attention.”

The look I give him is deadpan. “Like you.”

His laugh starts out slow, a soft chuckle at first that soon morphs into something deep and rich. Cupping my chin, he jostles me playfully. “Yes, like me. Why are you here, angel? You should stay far away if you know what’s good for you.”

Unable to stop a smile from dancing across my lips, I bat him off. “You’re the lesser of two evils. I’d rather deal with you than the three of them.” I fall silent, relaxing back against the cold wall. Dmitriy stays quiet beside me, but the heat of his gaze burns the side of my face. His soft touch follows as he tucks my hair behind my ear.

Picking at my nail polish and scraping it off from the corner of my thumbnail, I ask, “Do you know where Daemon is?”

“No.”

My teeth destroy my bottom lip while his fingers trace the shell of my ear. I don’t question why he’s touching me like this or why he’s being kind to me. In a world where cruelty is your ally, I feel so fucking lost and welcome having a friend.

It’s foolish—I know it is. When I killed Oliver and escaped Eden, I had a plan and a purpose in mind. Now I’m stuck here with no clue about who I am or why I’m here.

“But I do know that he’ll come back for you.”

I scoff, avoiding his probing gaze.

“He will,” he reassures me, cupping my chin and bringing my eyes to his. I couldn’t look away even if I wanted to. I’m reeled in by the darkness in his eyes, the whisper of a promise to make me forget and take the pain away.

Why does he look so much like Daemon but also not? Why do I tingle in forbidden places when his breath licks at my lips like the ghosting of a promised kiss?

I lean away from his touch, then rise to my feet. “I need to go.”

His hand flies out and encircles my wrist. “I’m sorry.”

My eyes fall to where his fingers burn my skin. I’m hurting. That’s why my heart responds to the regret staring back at me.

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”

I jump at the sound of a throat clearing behind me, and Dmitriy’s eyes darken before he releases me and relaxes back. “Alaric,” he drawls, stretching his arm out over the back of the bench. I stand frozen in place with my breath caught in my throat. I don’t dare turn around.

“She’s claimed by Daemon.”

Dmitriy raises one eyebrow and pretends to scan the cafeteria. “Daemon isn’t here.”

My eyes threaten to fall shut when Alaric’s heat burns my back. He towers behind me, achingly familiar. “Touch her again, and it’ll be the last fucking thing you do.”

Without thinking it through, I spin around and shove him back. “I decide who gets to touch me. Not you, and certainly not Daemon.”

Alaric kills the small distance in less than two steps, his lips brushing against the shell of my ear when he whispers, “You’re smarter than this.”

“Than what?”

“He’s playing games.”

My feet retreat a step. “And you’re not? All this time, Daemon was betrothed to Dariana.”

“It’s complicated,” he grits out, hands fisting rhythmically at his sides. He wants to reach for me but holds himself back.

“Complicated,” I echo. My throat bobs on a painful swallow as I allow myself a second to bask in his masculine perfection. The way his dark hair falls over his brows, and the glint in his stormy eyes as he holds himself back from grabbing me and punishing me with his lethal touch that would see all of my defenses crumble.

Since when did I become so fucking scared? Where has my fight gone? I don’t like this new version of me. “Leave,” I demand, gesturing to Ronan and Dariana across the room. “Your friends are waiting for you.”

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