I’d been dying to know.
When he’d glared at me with a wounded expression afterward, I’d fallen apart, convinced I’d ruined everything I’d worked so hard to create between us.
But all my worrying had been for nothing because Aran had still been interested in me. He’d seen behind my mask and still forgiven me.
After that, my interest in him had become a full-blown obsession.
And when Aran had turned out to be the most stunning woman I’d ever seen in my life…my interest had become mania.
I liked to play games.
I liked to collect treasures.
I already had two perfect men: two dragons that made the House of Malum crest proud. Scorpius and Corvus.
Now I had a sweetheart.
A fearless, blue-haired, doe-eyed woman to add to my collection.
Where their strength was overwhelming and in-your-face, hers was quiet and unassuming. It was still impressive. And she was just as manipulative as I was, disguising herself as a man.
She’d played us all.
Where my mates’ darkness was a loud explosion that destroyed the world, her darkness was a quiet implosion that pulled the world into her.
Arabella was a composition of mesmerizing turquoise: soft features, smoking lips, and haunted eyes.
She was a jagged construction of paradigms; she radiated strength, yet she was broken.
I wanted to know every single thing that made Arabella tick.
What did she think about that made her stare off into the distance?
Were her thoughts dark?
Why did she smoke so much?
Why did she avoid sex?
Why had she killed Horace?
Why did her eyes sometimes glaze over when she stared at fire?
Why did she constantly itch her back?
Why did she sometimes revel in violence and, at other times, hate it?
Why did she pick at her lip?
Why had we only seen her create two ice daggers if she was a powerful fae?
Why had she eaten her mother’s heart?
Why did she look away when I stared into her eyes?
Why did she keep pushing me away when we kissed?
Why did she seem more comfortable when she was masquerading as Aran than as Arabella?