Page 67 of Heir of Illusion

“Darrow!” I spit his name. Pulling one of my blades free, I take a step toward him.

“Uh, uh, uh.” He wags his finger before pointing to the enchanted doorway between us. “You look like you have a clear intention of harming me. But might I remind you, dear Iverson, that would be bad for your health.”

“Bastard,” I grumble under my breath.

“Takes one to know one, pet.” He smirks, tossing one of his blond curls over his shoulder. “Now, please ask your new acquaintance not to murder me. I’m too beautiful to die.”

“Coward.”

“And proud of it!” He slams the door.

I roll my eyes as I trudge through the empty club. When I come here early in the day, I don’t usually venture past Della’s study. There’s something eerie about seeing the front rooms empty. There’s a wrongness to it, as if everyone suddenly disappeared in the middle of their revelry.

But, of course, MASQ isn’t entirely empty. Della stands in the kitchen, her hands on her hips. The soft pink dress compliments her dark skin beautifully, but judging by her expression, the bright color is completely at odds with her mood.

“I do not appreciate uninvited men banging on my back door and traipsing through these halls this early in the day, Iverson,” she says sternly.

“It won’t happen again,” I promise, raising my hands in a placating gesture.

Steel flashes in her brown eyes. “See that it doesn’t.”

I tuck my chin, staring at the tile floor as I head for the door. Getting scolded by Della takes me back to my childhood. I was constantly getting into trouble with her and Leona, always touching something I shouldn’t. Even though she’s genuinely angry with me right now, I have to bite my lip to stop a nostalgic smile from forming. For a moment, everything is exactly how it once was.

As soon as I step outside, the door slams shut behind me. Several clinks and thumps echo from the other side as she twists all of the locks into place. Her paranoia would be amusing if it weren’t sad.

Thorne stands a few feet away, anger radiating off him as he holds himself slightly too still. If I had to describe him with one word, it would be restrained. Rain soaks through his clothes, molding them to his body.

“Theenchanterdidn’t want to join us?” he asks, his tone far too soft.

I cross my arms over my chest. “His schedule was already booked.”

“Yet again, he abandons you to save himself.” Thorne takes a few steps closer. “Some friend.”

I shuffle backward, hitting the brick wall behind me. “As I said before, we’re not that close.”

He moves forward, eating up the space I put between us. “You lied to me.”

“You’ve lied to me many times.” I lift my chin to meet his gaze, barely an inch separating us.

A muscle twitches at his jaw. “You two were pretty cozy up there.”

My face heats at the insinuation. “Jealous?”

He barks out a laugh, and his breath coasts across my cheek. “Betrayed is more like it. I don’t enjoy being given the runaround.”

“And I don’t enjoy how you expect me to share everything with you, while you share nothing with me,” I tell him, shocked by how true the statement is. I’m tired of being kept in the dark by those who demand my unwavering loyalty.

“Too bad, my lady.” One side of his mouth kicks up in a half smile. “That’s the way this works. If you have a problem with it, take it up with yourlover.”

My hand moves through the air without my permission, halting a centimeter from his cheek as he catches my wrist. The leather from his gloves is soft where his fingers wrap around my skin, perfectly at odds with the anger simmering in his blue eyes. He looms over me, trapping my wrist against the wall above my head.

“What did I tell you, Angel?” Thorne demands, his voice deepening. “Don’t ever touch me.”

“Believe me,” I tell him. “Touching you is the last thing I’d want.”

His jaw clenches as his gaze flits to my mouth. My limbs turn heavy as an unwanted heat settles in my lower stomach. The sensation only increases as his thumb brushes back and forth over my wrist.

My attention catches on a raindrop carving a path down his face, slipping past the freckles on his cheeks before dripping off his chin. A shiver racks through me as my eyes find his again. The silver flecks that mingle within those pale-blue irises are maddening. It’s not right for anyone to be this beautiful. Without meaning to, I find myself pushing onto my tiptoes and closing the distance between us further. We’re both breathing harder now, our chest nearly brushing with each inhale. It would be so easy to lean forward and?—

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