Page 32 of Priest and his Anarchist

“Why does it matter if I do?” The vein on the side of his neck pulses. “You can go.” He disappears from my peripheral, but the weight of his soul leaves frost down my spine. “And when they drive that knife through your pretty little heart, Madness…” His knuckles touch the exposed area of my back, gliding down my spine. My breath catches, and I tilt my head to the side when his lips graze my shoulder. “I want you to remember that the pain you’re feeling in that moment isn’t half as bad as it would be if I gave you everything you wanted any time you looked at me with those fuck me eyes.”

“Priest…” I warn, biting my cheek to stop myself from saying something I might regret.

He releases me from his invisible hold. Even though it’s delicate, it’s a cruel reminder of feelings I’ve tried to force myself to ignore. I need to change the subject and distract us from whatever that was.

“I’m not doing anything with Vaden.” I lean against the window as he lowers back into his chair.

He snickers, keeping his eyes on me. “You think I don’t know that?”

Even with the smoldering sorbet sunset, it does nothing to hide that all he is is midnight. Over the years, I’ve learned that my heart is a beast. A caged, hungry beast. One day, it’ll unleash itself, but today…

The corner of his mouth twitches. “You gonna ask me how I’m so cocky?”

“No,” the way his eyes move over my body has me fighting with myself. There are one hundred reasons why I shouldn’t crawl onto his lap, the first being he’ll kick me off, and the second is that I have too much pride. “I gather it’s your nature.”

His legs spread an inch, and my brain short-circuits when he relaxes even lower into his chair. “Madness…” The nickname only he uses falls from his tongue like honey. “Look at me.”

My eyes land on his, and the room shrinks around us.

“You’ll always be safe with me.”

Blood rushes through my ears, soothing my racing heart. I believe him.

Fingers touch mine and my body ignites like a furnace. Different from how it felt when I first met him, when everything was so cold.

So…cold.

His brows furrow as he studies the movement with fascination. I shouldn’t feel the way I do when he touches me because I’ve seen what carnage his hands can do. So gentle with me, yet so brutal with others.

“I need you tonight.” He reaches into a drawer beneath his desk, pulling out a mask. His fingers linger on mine before leaving it in my hands. I trace the encrusted diamonds that form into a skull.

“What is it?” It’s shaped to only hide the upper half of your face.

“My Calvaria.” I’d heard Dad talk about them once. They are to replace the face paint from previous generations.

“Isn’t it sacred to wear someone else’s ancestor?” My thumb circles the human bone that structures it.

Priest shrugs. “Guess I don’t care.”

“Why do you need me to wear this?”

“Because.” He stands to his full height. “Everyone is attending.”

The door opens behind him, and someone fills the space that separates the office and the hall. He’s tall but stands short beside Priest. With blond hair and skin even paler than Vaden’s, he’s classically handsome, sure, but like most boys in the EKC, he seems tormented.

He straightens his posture. “You called.”

Priest leans against the desk directly in front of me, his finger tapping on the edge. The longer he stares, the more my skin crawls.

“You’re taking Luna to the gala tonight.” My eyes fly up to the boy standing at the door as Priest’s next words leave him. “And you’ll make sure she behaves.”

The boy doesn’t argue, bowing his head and leaving the same way he came. Maybe River and I can still sneak away after the gala, since I would have had to wait for her anyway. We could go out and get drunk in whatever random town of her choosing that is far, far away from prying eyes.

“You’re setting me up on a date?” I lift my brow. “I could have gone with Vaden.”

Priest laughs, but it’s drawn out and drips of sarcasm. His chest brushes mine when he stands. “Wear red.”

I place the mask down on the bathroom vanity, my finger tapping against the marble. Why would he make me wear his Calvaria? Each of the Three get one, encrusted with diamonds and molded by the bone of their original ancestor. Which would make this one Humphrey Hayes. A shudder rolls through me.

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