THEON
He waited until they were upstairs in their room.
They’d left the social an hour later. Axel had stayed behind, back to whispering in the ear of the dark-haired female. Luka had driven them home, but he hadn’t even come into the house. He was already stripping off his jacket, tie, and shirt, clearly planning on flying under the cover of night.
Which left Theon completely alone with Tessa.
Her display of newfound fierceness had instantly vanished as she’d slid across the seat, giving him her back and staring out the window for the short drive home. She hadn’t said a word, and she wasn’t saying anything now as she strode straight into the dressing room.
Theon followed her, finding her struggling to reach the zipper on the back of her dress. He brushed her hands out of the way, and she immediately tensed. Leaning in close, his lips brushed her ear when he asked, “Ready to tell me what the fuck you were doing with him?”
He let his fingers graze her skin as he slowly slid the zipper down.
“You saw us. We were dancing,” she answered, her tone clipped as she held the front of her dress against her chest.
“For the sake of clarity, you allowed another to touch you without my permission. Was I not clear what would happen if that occurred?”
“And yet Tristyn still breathes,” she retorted.
“For now,” he agreed, his hand falling to his side when she spun to face him.
“You can’t just kill him, Theon.”
“The events at Wynfell River suggest I could do just that.”
“He’s not just some vampyre. He’s a Legacy, same as you.”
Theon reached out, fingering a lock of her hair. “Oh, little storm. Do you think I have not shed the blood of a Legacy? For things far less than touching what is mine?”
“I am not yours,” she gritted out, moving to shove past him, but he gripped her arm, spinning her once more and moving her against the wall. He moved with her, his chest to her back as she gasped.
“What were you doing with him, Tessa? In front of dozens of Legacy looking for weaknesses?” he demanded.
“I was doing exactly what you asked of me,” she bit back. One hand was braced on the wall, keeping her face from pressing into it. Her other hand was still clutching her dress to her front.
“How do you figure that?”
“Watch. Listen. Learn everything you can about the people in this room,” she spat. “So I was learning everything I could about Tristyn.”
That godsdamn smart mouth. That’s all Theon could think, and he couldn’t decide if he was furious with her or proud of her for finding a workaround. It was that kind of cunning he needed from her, but not to be used against him.
“Do you have any idea what that looked like to the other Legacy?” he asked, his voice far too calm. He could tell she felt it too, her body going even more rigid.
“I swear, Theon. I was only trying to find out information for you.”
He hummed at her non-answer. “And what did you learn for me?” While he spoke, he brought a hand to her shoulder, slipping the strap down and running his fingers along her flesh.
“I…I found it odd none of us realized he was a Legacy in Rockmoor. I was trying to figure out how that was possible,” she answered, her voice breathy as he did the same thing to the other strap.
“And what did you learn?” he repeated.
“I—” Then with a burst of strength he wasn’t expecting, she twisted in his hold, spinning to face him. “Stop,” she snarled. “I can’t think when you’re doing that.”
“Maybe you can understand a fraction of what it was like to learn you were with him then,” Theon retorted, bracing his hands on the wall beside her head, caging her in. “The fury that made it impossible to focus on anything else.”
She smirked. “Oh, I understand helpless fury just fine, Theon.”
“Do you, little storm? Because lately it’s just been indifference.” Her lips pursed, her gaze darting to the side, and he gripped her chin, forcing it back to him. “Luka and Axel said the latest arrangements haven’t been working, and I’m inclined to agree.”