Chapter 11 #2
Atlas Skye stood over her and when she dared to meet his gaze, she couldn’t look away.
His dark blond hair was tousled, like he’d just rolled out of bed, and it hung in his face, concealing his eyes.
But that didn’t matter, she knew exactly what they looked like, she’d committed his face to memory long ago.
Eyes that were golden like the sunrise kissing the top of the mountains, or warm green like a spring forest, depending on his mood.
His prominent jawline was always shaven smooth, he’d inherited high cheekbones and dimples from his mother and full lips with a slight cleft in his chin from his father.
His dark brown pants hung low on his waist and his fitted shirt was tucked in, the top four buttons undone, revealing inches of golden skin and the snarl of the wolf tattooed on his chest.
It wasn’t fair that someone so arrogant could be so damningly beautiful.
“Answer me,” he demanded, blowing a lock of hair from his face so she could clearly see the fury burning in his eyes.
Everinne locked her spine into place, refusing to back down.
“I wasn’t flirting with him,” she ground out.
“No?” Atlas’s jaw clenched, a vein along his neck pulsed. “Then how else did you find your way into the Mystic Obscura?”
Did he honestly think—that prick.
“I worked for it, Atlas.” She arched off the wall, rolling her hips into him. “I earned it.” If he truly thought so little of her, then she would let him believe it. “Is that what you wanted to hear, Your Radiance?”
She thoroughly expected him to jerk away from her, to release her in disgust. But instead, Atlas surprised her in the worst way imaginable.
He palmed her waist then nudged his leg between her thighs, pressing himself flush against her, diminishing every last shred of space.
With his muscled leg wedging both of hers apart, the hem of her absurdly short dress rose even higher.
The crystals hanging from the fabric tinkled in warning.
Her breasts were squished against the solid wall of his chest, and on each ragged inhale, they threatened to pop free from the strapless confines of silver that barely covered them.
His furious gaze dipped to where they swelled, and a different kind of heat banked there before his eyes traveled up her neck, pausing to linger on her lips.
Atlas’s thumb traced a slow, lazy circle along her waist.
“You’re bleeding,” he murmured. Instantly, his jaw locked, his gaze darkening with the promise of vengeance. “Did he fucking hurt you?”
Everinne shook her head, breathless. Her heart refused to cease its incessant pounding, and her lung were entirely too compressed. Why did he always have this effect on her? She hated him, but more than anything, she hated what he did to her all those years ago.
He grabbed her chin once more to inspect the wound on her bottom lip. Faeries might not have fangs like vampires, but those two particular top teeth were sharper than most.
Atlas shifted closer, sending a jolt of heat straight to her core.
“He didn’t hurt me.” She swallowed hard as warmth spread through her, causing her toes to tingle, her belly to clench, and her nipples to harden. “I bit my own lip to…”
To keep it from trembling.
She would never admit he’d scared her.
Suddenly, he was lowering his mouth toward her.
Everinne held her breath and then Atlas’s tongue slid across her bottom lip, swiping gently over the wound. Her entire body vibrated with desire, betraying her completely as she melted into him. His hand squeezed her waist, his fingers digging into her.
Atlas leaned back, just barely. He made a strange noise then, a feral sort of sound. The fusion of a growl and a groan.
When those eyes of his latched onto her, they were tainted with lust.
Alarm fired in the back of her mind, and she stiffened, refusing to allow herself to fall into one of his traps. She knew who he was, what he was, just as she was fully aware of the reputation he wore like a fucking crown.
“Don’t you dare use your magic on me,” she warned. She’d suffered through his torture once before, she would never do so again. She wriggled against him in an effort to break free, a useless endeavor, but she refused to give up.
“That’s all you, Ever.” His careless smile was a dagger to her heart. “I’m not using my magic on you. If I was, you would know .”
Right.
She would know. The feel of his magic was sheer ecstasy, the scent of it like amber and vanilla. Luscious and tempting.
“Let me go.” Her tone lacked its usual conviction, instead her plea came out in a hushed breath. “Please.”
“On one condition.”
Everinne scowled up at him.
“You tell Veros where you’re working.” His grip on her wrists loosened, his hand fell away from her waist. “Before he hears it from someone else.”
Now it was Everinne’s turn to smirk. “You mean someone like you? Planning on running off and tattling to my big brother about how I’m being naughty?”
“You don’t know the meaning of the word.
” Atlas’s teeth scraped along his bottom lip and she tracked the movement.
He released her arms, and she almost sighed in relief, dropping them to her sides.
But then he gripped her hips instead, dragging her so close, she felt every hard inch of him.
Including that distinctively large bulge straining against his pants.
Oh, gods.
She’d gone too far.
“But no, I won’t be the one to tell him.
” He took the smallest step back, away from her.
His dismissal was a slap in the face, the sting of it left her cheeks flushed with humiliation.
“It’s better if Veros hears it from you.
Directly. Since you have a tendency to make his life an unnecessary living hell. ”
Bastard.
She shot a pointed look at his erection, of which he was not at all ashamed, then met his damning gaze. “Was there something else you needed, Your Radiance?”
“No.” This time, his voice was hoarse.
“You’ve said that word a lot tonight.” Everinne tilted her head, eyed him coolly. Now that she knew exactly what kind of effect she had on him, she was quite certain she could play his stupid little games.
“And yet, you never listen.”
Beats of painful silence passed between them as they stared at each other. Watching, waiting to see what the other would do.
Everinne’s gaze darted to his mouth, to the wolf tattooed across half of his chest, to where his dark gold locks fell around his pointed ears. All the while, his enchanting eyes trailed over every inch of her, igniting her like a flame without a spark.
Then suddenly, Atlas bent down, and she thought for sure he would kiss her. He was impossibly close, and even though she loathed him with every fiber of her being, she knew that if his lips touched hers…she would kiss him back. Her lashes fluttered, her breath hitched.
But instead, he tucked a strand of her dark hair back behind her ear, his mouth gently grazing the sensitive flesh of its tip.
She almost came undone, would’ve peeled out of her dress on the spot for him.
Goosebumps riddled her flesh.
He reached up, his fingers gently playing with the dagger earring dangling from her ear.
“Be careful, Everinne,” he whispered. “Immortals are disappearing.”
Disappointment snapped through her and she straightened, locking her knees, and silently vowing to never fall under his spell again.
“Aw,” she sneered, shoving the pain splintering through her back into her pit of a soul where it belonged. “Are you worried about me?”
Atlas shook his head, and the rest of her candles flared to life, illuminating the kitchen.
He snatched his black helmet off the table, then headed for the door.
She watched him leave, prayed to the gods he’d never return, but then he stopped.
Tossing a glance at her from over his shoulder, he muttered, “I always worry about you.”
In the next moment, Atlas was gone.
And she was alone. Again.
Everinne stalked over to her near-empty cupboard and grabbed what remained of her honeyfire.
She downed all of it, reveling in the burn, the way the sweetened smokey alcohol scoured her stomach.
She told herself it was to keep the nightmares away, to temper the foul magic that tainted her blood.
But this time, it was to numb the memories of her past. The ones she kept locked away in the icy fortress of her heart, from when she fancied herself in love with the Imperial Prince of Prava.