Page 4 of Forbid Me

The sight of it—the raw, undisguised lust in his eyes—was a slap to my own face. My hand moved before I could even think. My palm connected with his cheek with a resounding smack. The sound reverberated in the narrow hallway, a sharp punctuation to the chaos of my emotions.

"You'll never change, Ken. You're a cheat, and you always will be."

His hand flew to his cheek, his eyes wide in shock. But there was no remorse there, no understanding of the pain he had caused. Just the sting of my rejection.

I turned on my heel, leaving him standing there in his wrinkled boxer shorts, a symbol of the farce our relationship had been. Tears blurred my vision as I walked away. They ran down my cheeks, bringing with them some of my mascara. That would not do.

With a wave of my hand, I conjured a spell to dry the teardrops away. With a wiggle of my fingers, I fixed my makeup, removing the puffiness of disappointment from beneath my eyes and adding a dab of gold sparkle at the corners to brighten the night.

It worked.

On the outside.

Because outside it was dark.

I halted for a moment, glancing at my reflection in a dimly lit store window. My golden hair, with its ombre of black at the roots, framed my face perfectly. It was an homage to the cat trapped inside of me, hidden beneath my flawless exterior. Every curve of my body was adorned with care. My outfit showcased my assets in the most appealing way. On the surface, I was stunning: a picture of confidence and allure.

The mirror reflected only the outer shell. Inside, I felt ugly, tainted by the betrayal of the man I had thought loved me. I saw the echo of the ones who'd come before him, promising me forever andstealing away moments of my life. The dissonance between my exterior and my inner turmoil was jarring.

A deep breath steadied my quivering emotions. The world would see the exterior, the image I projected. But I couldn't hide the pain entirely.

I pulled out my phone and scrolled to our group chat.I'm in desperate need of a girls’ night in. Ken is officially out of my life for good.

The texts were hesitant, but my girls came through. Especially after I texted what I was bringing to the party.

CHAPTER TWO

Oz

Having squirrel for breakfast was probably not the best decision.

Stepping through the portal, I felt that now-familiar lurch in my stomach. It was like being pulled under the water during a strong current or a vehicle swerving on an inch of water. Water in great amounts or small had the power to leave a man or beast helpless.

As a man, I was not good at being helpless. Inside my gut, my beast showed its disapproval by clawing at my intestines. The sensation of being pulled apart atom by atom and then stitched back together was something I would never get used to, no matter how many times I would do it.

No matter if it was by portal travel, or if I was being physically sliced apart by the person I trusted most in the world—the personwho had brought my life into existence.

Opening my eyes for my first look at this world left me less than impressed. I took a deep breath, allowing my senses to adjust, to take in the nuances of Earth. The air carried unfamiliar scents, a cocktail of odors that didn't fit the natural world I knew.

Exhaust from the vehicles, the sharp tang of technology, mingled with the natural scents of dirt and rain that underpinned this city's atmosphere. It was a far cry from the crisp, clean air of the forests and mountains I was accustomed to.

"You smell that, Oz?"

"What smell is that, my king?"

"It's the smell of success."

"You're feeling good about these negotiations with the House of Blood and Beryl?"

"Negotiations?" King Dion looked back at me over his shoulder. His canines glinted in the sunlight. "I smell brand new women eager to bounce on my cock."

"Your favorite smell," I deadpanned.

All the while, I remained stoic, not letting a hint of discomfort at the travel show on my face. This wasn't my first trip. I'd used witches' magic to travel short distances in my country of Panthera. In my role as King Dion's chief of security, I'd traveled the breadth of our home world, Arcadia. But I'd just traveled between worlds, from the realm of the gods to the mortal planet of Earth.

The light here had a different quality, too. The rays felt harsh on my skin, artificial even in daylight. It cast sharp shadows that fractured the world into a kaleidoscope of light and dark. It was disorienting, and I had to focus to keep my bearings.

As chief of security for the king, my instincts were always dialed to high alert. But here, in this teeming portal station, they were stretched to their limits. The place was a melting pot of beings. Shifters of all kinds mingled with vampires, fae, and witches, each with their own agendas, each radiating their unique energies andintentions. And my king, with his roaming eye, clearly wanted to touch more than he wanted to look.

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