She says nothing as she watches me, beguiling amethyst eyes boring into my blue ones as she steps closer, swaying into me as she places both hands on my upper thighs and whispers, “No.”
That single, breathy word rams into me like a sledgehammer, battering my control. I inhale a deep breath through my nostrils in a last-ditch effort to control myself and I'm instantly bombarded with the scent of vanilla, cinnamon, and cherry. My cock has been twitching throughout our entire encounter, but when I smell the scent that's all Lena, it hardens to steel.
Heart stampeding within my chest, I watch the purple of her eyes begin to glow with desire as she arches against me and licks her lips. At the thought of gliding my cock between those red, juicy lips, my blood begins to boil and my dick rages against its leather prison as my whole body tenses and prepares to pounce.
Palm slipping off the table, I reach for her hips where that small patch of bare skin is displayed between her vest and trousers, but a troubling thought suddenly slices through my haze of desire, freezing my hand midair. Slowly curling my hand into a fist, it visibly trembles as I draw back from her.
Ignoring the physical pain of retreat, I ask, “Your brother owns the leather shop?”
Her breathing is erratic and her eyes are glazed over in lust, but a line appears between her brows. “Uh, huh,” she mumbles huskily.
A wave of ice spreads through my veins, successfully dousing any remaining lust. “The other night you said your uncle owned the leather shop,” I state coldly. “Not your brother.”
At my statement, her eyes instantly clear and an emotionless mask slips into place. “Did I?” she asks blandly.
Fucking liar.
Neither of us speaks as I glare into her apathetic eyes. Although her breaths calm and her body relaxes, outwardly she shows no signs of the fact that we were only moments away from fucking on this very same table. She’s cool, calm, and collected, as if nothing even happened. Like it was all an act.
Knuckles whitening into fisted hands, my nostrils flare as my blood begins to boil in rage.
This is why I don't trust people. Liars and users, all of them.
The bell over the entrance peals and two pairs of footsteps stride in our direction.
“Darius?” Griffin calls out, but I refuse to remove my gaze from Lena’s. Neither does she as I rise to my feet, leather skimming against leather until I tower over her, leaving not even a finger's breadth between.
“Darius,” Griffin repeats, more forcefully than before.
I narrow my eyes on her one last time, then swing my gaze toward the entryway where a confused Griffin and Kace are standing.
“Ajax?” I ask.
“He’s all settled,” Kace replies in the same moment I feel Lena place a hand on my chest and push, forcing me to take a step back. She glances back at me over her shoulder with an expression void of emotion, before striding away to slip between the two confused males and leaving the room.
Feeling both of their questioning stares, I suck on my teeth before waving them on, unwilling to spend another moment in this room where Lena almost convinced me she was different from everyone else. But of course, she’s not. I shouldn't be surprised. I've met very few honest females throughout my life. Why would a woman be any different?
Trailing behind my guards, my gaze wanders to the display case, seeing Aurora on one side with Lena on the other. A dagger, partially wrapped in cloth, lays forgotten between the two as they both lean forward, speaking in hushed voices.
“These are the only metals you work with?” Lena asks.
Aurora nods. “Steel mostly, but I occasionally work with iron or copper.”
Lena bends further over the case and whispers so quietly, I have to strain my ears to make out their conversation. “Have you ever plated the metal with anything?”
Aurora shakes her head. “I've seen it done, but I’ve never done it myself.”
“Have you ever seen one plated with anything… unusual?” Lena whispers.
Suspicion rears its head and I pass by Amara, Tristan, Kace, and Griffin where they chat near the front door, positioning myself against the opposite wall where I can see and hear them more clearly.
“Like what?” Aurora asks.
Lena anxiously taps her forefinger against the clear glass, visibly debating before coming to some sort of decision. She opens her mouth to speak, hesitates, then speaks at normal volume when she notices me out of the corner of her eye. “Have you ever seen a blade plated with a material that was bright white? Similar to the shade of starlight?”
“Starlight?” Aurora asks, her lips turned down into a frown.
Lena nods. “Yes, but unlike starlight, there would have been small flecks of color within it. Purple, blue, pink, a kaleidoscope of colors. Similar to opal, but…not.”
“I'm sorry, I've never heard of it,” Aurora says with an apologetic smile.
Lena’s cheeks puff out and she shuts her eyes, exhaling a slow breath before her lids lift and she forces a smile onto her face. “I didn't think you would.”
“Where did you ever hear of such a thing?” Aurora prods, folding the cloth over the dagger.
Lena waves her hand dismissively. “Just from some silly story a friend told me.” Her forlorn expression tells anyone who's paying attention how silly she doesn't think it is.
Unclasping a bulging pouch from her belt loop, Lena digs for several silver coins and flattens the coins on the glass, sliding them towards Aurora with a brittle smile. “I was wondering if there was some truth to it.”
Lena’s head swivels in my direction, and when she meets my gaze, her smile instantly falls. With a grave face, her amethyst eyes reveal a whole slew of emotions. Anxiety, sadness, and possibly guilt. My uneasiness since entering the room intensifies when I feel that link strum with all these emotions, in addition to an overwhelming fear that takes my breath away.
She's terrified.
Her lies, her secrets, the threat she may pose, none of that matters as I feel her crippling terror. All I can think about is snatching her up and whisking her away to a place no one will find her, while I search for the people responsible for eliciting such a response.
I move to do just that when the bond suddenly cuts off, her face hardens, and she nods to me before striding brusquely toward the front door.
A strange feeling encapsulates me, rushing through my blood as she moves towards the door. She knew I was coming to comfort her, knew I wanted to help, and she just… walked away. Not even a glance back. That awful feeling flows into my chest, dozens of needles pricking at the organs beneath. It takes me a moment to recognize the feeling for what it is, to realize the emotion she pulled forth with her dismissiveness.
