Page 3 of Us Deadly Few

“Didn’t mom raise you to be a gentleman?”

“Those still exist?”

“And here I thought pigs were the ones that went extinct,” Serene grumbled.

A low cough sounded behind them. They turned in unison to find Takeshi Steele’s striking face cooling into a hard mask.

Her eyes roved over his strong jawline, bottomless eyes, and soft onyx hair that was tousled in a way that appeared intentional.

Takeshi didn’t have to work to be attractive. He justwas. The kind of effortlessness an artist aches to capture in a painting. Not pretty, gentle, or subdued, but severe and honed. Like the fine edge of a sword that catches the light.

And when he swung in your direction, you’d witness the captivation of life and ferociousness of death before the very end.

“You have something to say?” Serene glared at him.

Takeshi stared lazily at Serene, raising a thick eyebrow.

Silence stretched across the ruined sands.

Takeshi had always been a man of few words, preferring the dark shadows to people. But the few times he did speak, everyone stopped and took note, begrudgingly respecting him, even if they feared him.

Serene quickly realized that waiting for a response from him was like waiting for bones to decompose.

“That’s it,” she huffed, turning back around. “There’s no hope for men.”

Takeshi was unbothered and shifted his gaze to Khalani.

She sucked in a sharp breath, his pitch-black eyes searing through her skin like every vulnerability within her fragmented mind was laid bare for him.

If she missed an hour of sleep. If she still walked funny from a knee injury that occurred nine years ago. If she harbored a slight fascination with death…he knew.

Takeshi’s black cloak billowed behind him as he openly appraised her for fleeting seconds that seemed to last a lifetime.

Her traitorous heart galloped inside her chest, waiting forsomething.

But Takeshi broke the intense stare-down and focused past her on the ruined landscape, ignoring her once more.

She pursed her lips, feeling the chasm between them widening with each passing day.

Ever since Takeshi killed the Governor, he treated her like a pariah.

Physically distant and emotionally unavailable were gross understatements.

Whenever she tried striking up a conversation, he either responded with one-word answers or blatantly ignored her. When she offered to take the night watch with him, he outrightrefused. And every night, as the dark clouds lifted over their heads, Takeshi slept as far from Khalani as possible.

The sudden switch mystified her.

When everyone else was asleep, she relived the ghost of his soft touches in prison. The tender night in his bedroom relentlessly lingered and the truths he relinquished never faded.

But one more thing plagued her. The haunting faces of the Braderhelm prisoners who’d been murdered while Takeshi stood dispassionately by.

After that fateful day, Khalani thought the best move was to bury her feelings in the deepest abyss of her heart and keep her distance from Takeshi Steele.

But it was as if he heard her thoughts and said, ‘Oh, you want space? Get ready to feel like an infectious disease.’

Sometimes, Khalani wondered if she’d imagined their forbidden kiss in Braderhelm. Maybe she fabricated Takeshi’s strong hands fastening to the back of her neck and his lips trailing over her skin like a brand. Or the way his obsidian eyes locked onto her stunned face after saving her from Guard Barron’s assault.

Even though Takeshi refused to speak, Khalani often found him watching her at night.

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