Page 115 of Nocturne

The way my temper flares at his ridiculous demands should be studied. Despite the anger burning inside, I meet his glare head-on.

“You wouldn’t.”

He steps right up to me, his presence swallowing me whole. Every step he takes sounds like a death sentence, and my heart beats so fast I can barely catch my breath. He leans in close, his body looming over mine, hands bracing on either side of the counter. I’m trapped.

“Try me.”

The temptation to call his bluff is intense, but I’m not willing to risk Sean’s life over this insane man.

“Keep him out of it,” I say, my voice firm.

His nostrils flare, and I can practically feel the grind of his teeth.

“Keep mentioning him, little siren. Watch what happens to him.”

I want to roll my eyes, but his closeness won’t allow me to. I’m surrounded by him—his body, his scent, his hands. I instinctively squeeze my legs together, trying to ignore the echo of what happened the last time we were this close.

“What’s wrong with sharing good news with a friend? What I did is monumental, you know?”

“I have no fucking clue what you did, but you’re a fucking genius,” he murmurs, his voice low, dangerous but also with a hint of admiration. “Anything about your success, you come to me. You tell me. If anyone dares to fuck with you? You come to me. When I said I own you, I own you in every fucking way, little siren.”

He steps closer, his body pressing against mine, his breath ghosting over my lips. “No one gets the privilege of seeing that smile unless it’s for me. Only me.” His hand slides up to my face, and he runs his thumb over the slit in my bottom lip, the one still tingling from the sting of his last kiss.

“That doctor who took you on a date? He’s already on my list. Keep pushing him to the top. I’ll enjoy making him bleed while you watch.”

“You sound ridiculous.”

“Ask me how many fucks I give about that.”

He leans in closer, close enough that I can feel his breath on my lips. My gaze drops to those lips—those damn lips. I can still feel the sting of his last kiss, the burn on my bottom lip that makes me ache to be kissed again, the wound he left that makes me want more.

Something is seriously wrong with me. Every time he’s near, my foundations crack. Everything I thought I was, every belief I had, gets shattered, and I stand there, a stranger to myself, desperate to be devoured by him. I want him to kiss me, I want him to do much more, but I won’t give in. I can’t let him think that this Neanderthal behaviour is acceptable.

Just then, the automatic door slides open, and I’m saved.

Turning, I smile as Cas, walks into the lab, dragging his bag. I give Yuri a thankful smile for picking him up for me and he gives me a nod. He keeps his vigil, right outside the lab after greeting his boss who nods at him.

“Hey, buddy!” I ruffle Cas’s hair and plant a kiss on his head. “How was your day?”

“Good,” Cas replies, his tone serious. “We learned about fractal geometry.”

His focus shifts, locking onto Zagan. My stomach twists at the silent exchange between them. Cas doesn’t look away, tilting his head slightly in a way that’s eerily similar to the way Zagan and Eero do.

“Cas, this is Mr Devlin,” I say, my voice light, though my nerves tingle with unease. “Mr Devlin, this is my son, Cas.”

Zagan gives a small nod, his expression unreadable, while Cas tilts his head further, scrutinising him.

“I know him,” Cas says suddenly, and my heart skips a beat. “Aunt Ivy and you talk about him all the time.”

Heat floods my face as I freeze, too mortified to look at Zagan. His gaze, however, is heavy on me, filled with questions I don’t want to answer.

Cas, oblivious to the tension, keeps staring at Zagan with a curiosity I’ve never seen before. And Zagan—he looks back at him with something new in his eyes, something unnameable but deeply unsettling. Is this some kind of stare-off?

“I’m sorry I have to work late,” I say, guilt tugging at me.

Cas turns to me, shaking his head with a small, knowing smile. “I like it here. It’s more interesting than our house.”

I can’t help but smile back as he goes to flip through my notes, his inquisitive eyes scanning my materials and monitor with the kind of focus that never ceases to amaze me. I glance at Zagan, curious to see if his attention has shifted, but it hasn’t. Unlike his usual intensity, his gaze is calm, almost thoughtful. Why a man like him—powerful, busy, and shrouded in danger—would spend time here, listening to me ramble about science most people don’t care about, remains a mystery.

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