Page 11 of Wicked Chains
The way he says it makes my blood rise. I want to punch him, or maybe kiss him, and that thought is so disgusting I almost laugh. Instead I just step closer, trying to crowd him, but Soren doesn’t move. He lets me get in his space, lets me close enough to catch the dark, dangerous scent that comes with him.
“Why are you here, Soren?”
He watches my face for a moment, then leans in, lips near my ear. “You, obviously.”
My stomach flutters, despite myself.
He sighs, lips grazing against my skin, and for one dizzy second I remember what it was like to let him in, to have all that hunger focused on me alone.
“I am what I am, Rose.”
“And what you are is an asshole,” I say, pulling back to glare at him. "You could have at least warned me. Both of you could have warned me. Given me a heads up that you were planning to roll over and show your belly to the new management."
"When exactly was I supposed to do that? While I was unconscious on the floor? Or maybe during the champagne toast this morning?" His voice carries an edge.
"You seemed pretty cozy with them at the assembly."
"Did I?" He shifts slightly, and suddenly I'm the one backed against my door, his hands braced on either side of me. "Or was I watching you get forced to your knees by that sadistic prick while calculating exactly how many pieces I could tear him into before his guards stopped me?"
My breath catches. "Don't."
"Don't what?" His eyes search mine. "Don't what? Don't point out that you were on your knees for another man while I had to sit there and watch?"
The jealousy in his voice sends a thrill through me that I immediately hate myself for feeling. "That wasn't by choice and you know it."
"I know." His hand moves to my face, thumb tracing my jaw. "Which is why he's still breathing."
"Big talk for someone who got knocked out with a wave of his hand."
Silver flashes in Soren's eyes. "You think I'm weak?"
"I think you're all talk." I'm baiting him and he knows it.
"Careful, Rose." His voice drops low. "You're playing with fire."
"Am I? Because from where I'm standing, it looks like you bent the knee pretty quick."
Something shifts in his expression. Before I can react, his hand slides to the back of my neck, fingers tangling in my hair. He pulls, firm enough to tilt my head back.
"You want to see me on my knees? All you have to do is ask, Rose."
Heat floods through me, low in my belly. I hate that my body responds to him even when my brain is screaming that he's a demon, that I should want nothing to do with him.
"Get off me," I manage, but it comes out weak and unconvincing.
"Make me." His free hand finds my hip, thumb stroking the strip of skin where my shirt has ridden up. "Use that power the covens all have a hard-on for.”
“I'm getting really tired of the men around here thinking they can just?—"
"Just what?" His thumb draws lazy circles on my hip. I don’t try to move away, though. "Touch you? Want you? Fight over who gets to own you?" He smirks. "We're all monsters here, Rose. The only difference is I'm honest about it." He steps back, hands dropping to his sides.
The loss of his warmth leaves me cold, which pisses me off even more. To hide it, I busy myself with unlocking my door, pushing it open and walking through as I speak.
"What I don't get," I say, "is how everyone is just going along with this. Yesterday the Crescent Moon Coven ran this place. Today it's the Blood Moon, and everyone's acting like it's just another Monday. Like nothing even happened."
Something almost like pity flickers across his face. "You really don't understand how this world works, do you?"
"Enlighten me."
