Page 58 of Deception

I huff out a breath of annoyance at his reluctance, knowing I imagined the taste properly this time. I poise the berry at his lips, much like he did to me, giving him no other choice than to bite into its plump skin. I’m drawn to his mouth as he closes it around the fruit, and I chew the corner of my lip absentmindedly. Remembering the feel of his soft skin pressed up against mine, teasing me, devouring me. My body shudders as my mind resurfaces memories of those lips clamping around my clit.

My gaze follows his every move as he pulls away, following the drop of juice that spills from his mouth. I reach out, my thumb brushing softly along his bottom lip, as though it has a mind of its own. I blink as realization hits me, the movement feeling so natural, I completely forgot about the distance between us for the past month. My body heats with need, wanting to pop my thumb into my mouth and suck on the delicious juice.

But I hold back, stumbling away to put some distance between us. I glance away, my heart unable to take whatever look may be playing on his face right now. Too weak to face that inevitable rejection.

“So, what’s next?” I ask with my back to him. Taking a few more steps away, I internally scold myself for reaching out like that.

“Now we move forward.”

I blink in confusion at his words, expecting him to either avoid mentioning my slip, instructing me to create the next item, or chastise me for touching him in such an intimate way.

I turn, expecting him to be where he stood before. Instead, he stands a mere pace away, causing me to almost smack into him in my haste. His arms shoot out, catching my biceps and stopping me from tumbling over.

“I want to move forward Olivia, I want to put what happened behind us. I want to trust you again,” he says with confidence, as though he had been running the words over in his mind for a while now. He waits, gauging my reaction.

Despite his words, I still see his guard up as he holds himself back.

“You do?” I ask hesitantly, not wanting to question his sentiments, yet I can hardly believe it. It was only a couple of days ago that my heart sank when he silently fled the room.

“I’m not completely there yet, but I want to get there I want to—”

“I’m sorry Adrian, I’m sorry for everything, sorry for leaving, for doubting you. I’m sorry for Mexico, if I could—”

“I know, Liv,” he interrupts me, his hands lightly gripping my arms, jerking me from my rushing thoughts. I sigh a breath of relief, and the pressure building in my chest subsides. “It will just take some time to get back to where we were.” He winces at his words eyeing me warily. I inhale sharply, scolding myself for taking comfort in his earlier remarks.

I nod in understanding, realizing it wouldn’t be right to jump back into things. Despite the relief I felt from my rushed apology, it shows how much we truly have to work on if he can’t listen to the words. His reluctance to hear the rest of that sentence truly shows that he isn’t open to fixing everything completely between us just yet. But I’m grateful that he’s willing to start, and we would take it one step at a time.

His hand lifts to tuck a stray strand of hair behind my ear, and my breath catches in my throat as his fingers linger there for a moment. Adrian and I have always been fire and passion, but there are genuine feelings there. So despite how much I want to lean forward, pressing my lips against his neck in soft, caressing kisses until I reach the light stubble around his jaw—I hold myself back.

My mouth parts under his soft gaze, and I’m about to say hell to taking things slowly, when a static crackling cuts through the thick sexual tension bubbling up between us.

I jerk back at the sounds, thoughts of Mavros—or Titus—surfacing when Adrian steps in front of me, putting himself between me and the training room door. I huff out a breath of annoyance, lightly pushing against his arm. Haven’t they realized I can hold my own yet? But, much to my irritation, he doesn’t budge, his arm tightening around me.

An image flickers into focus before us, and I sigh a breath of relief, although I’m not altogether sure why. A projection of Helene appears before us, apparently picking up where Titus left off with the ominous announcements. At least this time she didn’t summon us all to the auditorium to listen to her pathetic speech as they scramble to grasp on to whatever power they can.

“Students, given the events that occurred yesterday, we will be moving up the timeline for the second trial,” she announces, feigning a note of concern. Her brows knit together, but I can still see the calculating gleam in her gaze. She really ought to get some acting lessons or something.

Adrian clamps his arm tighter around me—whether it’s to keep me in place or to comfort me, I’m not sure.

How did them breaking the rules and jeopardizing my life constitute a change in the timeline? Especially since I’ve still got to learn how to use the majority of my powers. We were already on a tight timeline as it was. How am I supposed to climb this seemingly insurmountable mountain?

“As we all witnessed yesterday, one of our very own students was nearly stabbed due to an unauthorized weapon being smuggled into a match,” she says grimly, as though she wasn’t the one who orchestrated it all.

“For her safety, we will be moving up the second trial, as we must ensure all students are able to defend themselves against such threats.”

Now I understand her words, now I realize precisely what her game is. By moving up the date, not only is she putting me at a more significant disadvantage, but she’ll also convince any students who weren’t wary of me before to despise me. Using me as a scapegoat for their lack of preparation.

“Thank you all for your understanding. Please focus on the upcoming trial and prepare the best you can with this shortened training period.”

I sneer at her wavering image before it disappears out of sight with the accompanying static noise. Of course, she had to get in a parting jab, ensuring everyone knew who was to blame and redirecting any condemnation from themselves.

“That fucking bitch,” I snarl, attempting to push past Adrian’s arm, but he keeps a firm hold on me. I mean, I definitely could get past him if I tried, but it was more the sentiment than actually thinking any good would come from confronting her.

Adrian huffs out a breath of exasperation, his mouth opening, but before he can get the words out, the door slams open, crashing against the cement wall. The handle cracks off from the impact, toppling to the floor.

Maximus stands in the opening, his imposing figure casting an ominous shadow upon the floor. He inhales sharply, his gaze roving over me from head to toe, searching for any injuries. I exhale a breath of relief at the sight of him, my shoulders relaxing slightly at Kyros attempting to peer past his massive form.

I raise up on my toes, searching behind them for any sign of Mateo. A pang of disappointment spreads through my chest as my search turns up only empty space. I glance up at Adrian, his face relaxes and tenses a moment later. Uncertainty clouds his eyes, and only then do I realize I’m pressing against his arm in an attempt to rush to Maximus and Kyros. My first instinct was to run to the others—they had both been with me when the flickering image of Titus disguised as Mavros appeared before.

---