Page 38 of The Syphon King

He felt her eyes on him for a few seconds. “Her joy makes me feel alive plenty.”

He detected hostility in her words, wondering what caused it. “I was more asking if you were bored to tears yet.”

“Pfff, of course you were,” she muttered, sipping her drink. “Not bored at all. Having a blast too.”

A truth, a lie, and an accusation. She was entertained, but miserable. And angry at him.

“So, all these...brothers. They’re not blood related, right?”

“Correct,” he said, tensing at what weighed in her tone.

“My momma’s been after me to start dating again. Which of these do you think might be interested?”

His blood heated to near boiling as he aimed his gifts at his primal reflexes. “All of them but one, and none of them.” He pointed. “Rukem is freshly married, and the rest are interested but nonewill pursue.”

“Dare I ask why?”

He kept her in his peripheral. “Because you are with me.”

She lowered her drink. “I’m standing next to you. Actually, you’re standing next to me for some reason. What doeswith youmean to your kind?”

“My kind,” he chuckled, holding his hands behind his back.

“Yes, your royal kind.”

“It means we have rules and etiquette with the opposite sex.”

“Are you saying they think we’re together?”

“I’m saying as long as you’re here by my invitation, you’re my responsibility, my concern.”

“So, if I’m invited here by another brother, then I belong to that brother the same way while here?”

He glanced around. “This perturbs you.”

“Uhh, yeah. A little. I’m not accustomed to belonging-not-belonging to anybody, no matter what doors I walk through and who invited me to walk through them.”

“It’s merely school etiquette, Miss Skelton.”

“Oh,” she muttered lightly, raising her glass to him. “In that case, Mr. Vex,carry on with your whole...owning me not owning me, malarky.”

“I'm not owning you, I’m chaperoning you.”

“Clearly,” she said, those needs of hers turning angry and bitter. “I don’t wish to be owned. Not by you or any of your brothers.”

“I have offended you and I’m not sure how as usual.”

“This is not offended,” she all but seethed.

“What is it, then?” He palmed her hip and pulled her toward him when Gauld’s towering body got too close. “Sorry, moving you out of traffic.”

She aimed her finger at his face, drawing him right into her angry gaze. Seconds passed and her perfect mouth remained open with no words. “Do not...touch me,” she finally said, winded.

His breath returned when she snapped her face forward. “My apologies,” he said, still burning with what roiled in her eyes.

“Your apologies,” she mumbled, like they were poison. “How about never apologize to me again. Makes you look weak. Least in my eyes.”

“And what isstrength to you, Miss Skelton?”

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