Page 151 of Dance With A Devil
I blink at him. “You’re unhinged.”
“And yet,” he grins, “you’re still standing here dripping in us.”
Right. I said I’d own it. That no matter what happened tonight, no one would shame me for it, including myself.
I square my shoulders. “I won’t say he was better… but it was different.” My voice doesn’t shake. “And I should’ve known something felt off. I should’ve-”
“Don’t,” Wyck cuts in, eyes still cast to the side. “Stop punishing yourself.”
“I’m not.” I breathe out. “Just being honest. It’s not like I knew… Onyx and I haven’t even, ” I pause, biting down on the truth. “We haven’t slept together. Not really.”
Silence. One heavy enough to choke on.
“Let’s go,” Wyck mutters. “Car’s almost here.”
I move toward him, but he won’t look at me. Not directly. That stings more than I want to admit.
“Wyck?”
“Athens.”
“Why are you mad at me?” My voice is quieter now, a little raw. “I didn’t do anything wrong.”
His eyes finally find mine. Something dark and gutted flickers in them, guilt, rage, something ancient.
“I’m not madat you.I’m mad because I should’ve had this locked down. You were supposed to feel safe. Protected. But instead, some fuck waltzed into our world, intoyou, like he belonged there.” His grip tightens around my hand as he brings it to his lips. “I failed you tonight.”
“You can’t be so hard on yourself.”
But he’s already spiraling. I can see it in the way his shoulders rise with each breath.
“This was our fault,” he says, voice low and violent. “One night. We let our guard down forone fucking night, and someone slipped in. That doesn’t happen in my world. Not anymore.”
A chill runs down my spine at the way his tone hardens. The Wyck I know, the one who kisses me like I’m oxygen and breaks me open with his mouth, he’s gone.
In his place stands the Devil.
And maybe that’s what I need right now.
So I don’t argue. I don’t challenge him. I let him guide me out, flanked on all sides by the rest of them like I’m a queen they’d burn kingdoms for.
Because we all know this isn’t over.
We’re not just heading into the night.
We’re going hunting.
And someone’s going to bleed for touching what doesn’t belong to them.
jolt awake, disoriented. My mouth’s open. My face is damp.
Snoring.
“Seriously, what the fuck?” I mutter, swiping at the drool.
“Look who finally rose from the dead.” Karter’s voice slithers beside me, half amusement, half heat. “Queen of Snores lives to haunt us again.”
He’s grinning teeth flashing under dim interior lights, full brows twitching like he’s proud of that title he just gave me. “Don’t worry about spitting on me, Brat. I’m more into it than I should be. But when you let me? That’s the real art.”
