I find an empty bedroom and yank her inside, kicking the door shut behind us. The music becomes a distant thump, replaced by the sound of our breathing.
“This is what you want,” I say, backing her against the wall. “Stop pretending.”
Before she can argue, I crash my lips against hers, one hand gripping her waist, the other braced against the wall beside her head. For a split second, her body softens against mine, and I feel a rush of triumph.
Then her hands press hard against my chest, shoving me backward.
“What the hell?” She wipes her mouth with the back of her hand, eyes flashing with anger. “You can't just drag me in here and?—”
“Don't act like you weren't into it.” My voice comes out harder than I intended. “I felt you kiss me back.”
“For half a second before I realized what was happening!” Her cheeks flush crimson. “You can't manhandle people because you feel like it, Blackwood.”
The rejection burns through me like acid. Nobody says no to a Blackwood, not to Xavier, not to me.
“So what, you're just a tease?” I spit the words, stepping closer again. “All those looks in chemistry class, all that tension—that's just you getting off on the attention?”
“Get over yourself.” She tries to move past me toward the door. “This was a mistake.”
I block her path, anger surging through my veins. “You don't get to walk away from me.”
“Watch me.” She meets my gaze, unflinching. “And if you touch me again without permission, you'll regret it.”
Something dark twists inside me, a familiar feeling when I don't get my way. A Blackwood legacy of wanting, taking, possessing.
I step back, dropping my arm to let her pass. The fury pulses through me, but I force my face into a mask of indifference.
“Fine.” I wave dismissively toward the door. “Run away, Morgan.”
She narrows her eyes, searching my face for the trap she suspects. Smart girl. But she won't find it—not yet.
“This isn't running away,” she says, hand on the doorknob. “This is setting boundaries.”
I laugh, the sound sharp enough to make her flinch. “Call it whatever helps you sleep at night.”
She hesitates, and I can almost see the wheels turning behind those amber eyes. Part of her wants to stay—to fight, to prove she's not afraid. I've gotten under her skin just as much as she's gotten under mine.
“You know what your problem is?” She says, chin tilted up in defiance. “You think everyone should fall at your feet just because you decided they should.”
“Only the ones worth having.”
Her cheeks flush, and I know I've hit a nerve. Good. Let her carry that with her.
“Goodbye, Vane.”
I don't respond as she slips out, closing the door behind her. The room feels emptier without her fire filling it. I wait, counting breaths until I'm certain she's gone, then slam my fist into the wall.
The pain centers me, clears my head. This isn't over—not by a long shot. Lia Morgan walked away tonight, but she will come back. They always do. Only next time, I'll make sure she's begging for my attention.
I just need to change tactics. The direct approach clearly won't work with her. She needs to think it's her idea, her choice. And once she believes that, once she lets her guard down...
She'll realize Blackwoods always gets what we want. And I want her.
3
LIA
It's been a week since Vane Blackwood forced his lips on mine, and I still can't shake the memory. I've replayed that moment in the bedroom over and over—the pressure of his hand on my waist, the heat of his breath against my skin, the split second where I...