Page 15 of Ronan

None of these humans stand out.

None of them aremine.

“If you keep staring and trying to look intimidating, I bet it’ll make them set you free.” The man’s voice rings out from somewhere in the room, and I’m instantly drawnto it. “Such an amazing idea, right? They invaded your little rebel camp, but if you give them the stink eye long enough, they’ll realize the error of their ways and march you right out of here. Maybe evenapologize. Gods, I’m surrounded by geniuses.”

A few people turn to glance behind them, and I catch a fleeting glimpse of a man sitting on the ground. “You there,” I call, and Elas tenses beside me, interest piqued. “Show yourself.”

“Ahh… yeah, no thanks,” he says in a cheerful, singsong tone. “I’m good here. Nice and cozy in these five-star accommodations, you know? I’d hate to miss room service by leaving too soon… I hear the dessert is todiefor.”

Elas snorts a laugh, but I’m too fixated on the man to care. “That wasn’t a request, human,” I snarl, but he only hums a low note, ignoring me. My temper flares, my hands gripping the bars of the door so hard I wouldn’t be surprised if they bent. “The rest of you,move!” My voice echoes through the space as they stumble away, giving me a clear view of a man whose mere presence makes that string inside me yank until I almost fall forward.

Long legs stretch out in front of him as he casually leans against the wall, one foot kicking restlessly like he can’t bear to sit still. Thick, messy brown hair hides his eyes, and he doesn’t even bother to look in our direction. Instead, he’s focused on something in his hand.

“What contraband do you have, human, and how did you get it?”

“Oh, my gods,” Elas mutters beside me. “Smooth… so smooth.”

“What, this old thing?” He twirls the white container in his hand and gives it a little shake, still refusing to look at me. “This is what we call a soap bottle.” He annunciates the words as though he’s talking to a child, and my lip pulls into a snarl. “If you ask nicely, I might even explain how to use it. Now, I feel like it’s my duty to point out that this isn’t nearly enough for this many people to stay clean. These heathens don’t seem to care too much about hygiene, though, which is extremely unfortunate for me.”

Stunned, all I do is stare. “What—”

“What am I doing with it? Glad you asked. Since they’re not using it, I’m reading the label because the ingredients are infinitely more interesting than anything else going on at this little party.”

A frustrated scoff pushes from my throat. “What—”

“Never was a fan of parties, y’know?” he continues, talking over me as I gawk. “I’d rather find an animal to hang out with, instead of suffering through all that gods forsaken small talk. Like, no one cares about the weather,Janice.”

My wide eyes sweep to Elas, who’s having the time of his life as he bites his lip, trying not to laugh. I turn back to the man, who continues to ignore me. “Approach the door, human,” I finally say, and he shakes his head again.

“Nah, no, thank you.” This time, my mouth drops open at the nerve of this infuriating man.

“No, thank you?” I repeat in an outraged growl as my skin flames.

His sarcastic laugh is barely more than a breathy snort. “Mean monster says what?”

“What?!” I demand, and his shoulders shake as he laughs.

Atme.

“Rebels lose their right to argue when they are behind these walls.” My voice is gruff with my anger, but he cuts me off with another condescending laugh.

“Ah, there it is. That’s your first problem, buddy. You’re assuming I’m part of this merry band of rebellion, but you and everyone else in this compound is either too stubborn to listen or too stupid to comprehend. Let me say it at a level that will make it through your thick skull and penetrate that smooth brain inside…”

Rage overrides my common sense as I rip the door open, slamming it against the stone wall as I storm into the cell. The other prisoners throw themselves against the walls, out of my warpath. Hands shaking, I crouch beside him and snatch his chin, forcing him to face me.

Sparks ignite under my skin, and that pull in my gut settles into a fuzzy warmth that spreads through my limbs.Mine,the monster inside me snarls, and I fight my instincts as the thought clouds my mind.

Bright blue eyes are framed behind a pair of glasses, sharp as a razor and angry as a hornet. His nose is scrunched in an adorable display of defiance, but when our eyes lock, his soft pink lips part in a quiet inhale.

Every sensation disappears until all that’s left is the magnetism where we touch.

“What?” he whispers, so faint it’s barely more than an exhale. Brows bunching, his eyes dart between mine until he seems to collect himself, ripping his face from my grip. “Who are you, and what do you want? I’m too busy to play charades.” His anger and indignation burn bright as he turns away from me to read that stupid bottle again. “Whatdo you think phthalates are, and why do they need to add them to soap?”

With a quiet snarl, I yank his denim jacket down his arm and catch a hint of a yellow glow on his biceps. The light under my glove purrs in response, flaring and demanding to touch.

“The fuck?” He shoves me away and yanks his jacket over his shoulder, glancing at where his mark shines underneath his clothes. A pit forms on his cheek as he bites at the inside of his mouth, eyes crawling back to mine. The apprehension on his face tells me he’s definitely aware of its presence but doesn’t want others to see.

Is that because he doesn’t know what it is and fears it…

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