Chapter 5
Anita
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R onan stands within a foot of us with his hands in his pockets. His all-black attire, mask and dark hair exudes a man of dire power. Or anger. A flutter erupts in my belly, removing the nausea I experienced with Victor.
He steps closer and takes one hand out of his pocket. “I was looking for you, amor.”
Ignoring Victor completely, he stares at me. I can spot the fury in his eyes; it's enough fire in his hard gaze that it can burn the world down.
Victor extends his arm. “Go find someone else.” The palm of it nudges Ronan, stopping him in his tracks.
Oh, shit. My heart picks up a beat as I step out of Victor's hold. I notice the bite in Ronan’s jaw, the bones crushing and bulging. He tilts his head slightly, slowly looking down at where Victor's hand lies. Strands of his perfectly laid hair now falling in front of his forehead. Ronan forms a fist, and I could see the disaster right before my eyes.
My eyes widen, stepping to Ronan, my palm on his chest. “Let’s dance, darling.”
I slide beside him, hooking my arm into his, but Victor doesn't let go.
His head snaps down to mine in shock. I catch a grin playing on Ronan’s lips. Victor lets out a defeated laugh.
“I should’ve known. Someone as alluring as you has to be taken already.” His hold tightens around my elbows before letting go.
“Now, if you’ll excuse us,” Ronan speaks confidently. The wrath that was once fuming him dissipates, but not fully.
I step away from Victor, clasping Ronan’s hand. That sickening weight lifts from my shoulders along with relief. Ronan pulls me closer, wrapping a protective arm around my waist.
Victor's shoulders stiffen for a second before catching the hint. “I need to go handle business, anyway. It was a pleasure meeting you.” He bows his head before strolling off into the crowd.
Releasing a breath, I shift in front of Ronan, which only allows him to grip me closer, to press my chest into him, giving him full access to keep his hand above the small of my back.
We don't break eye contact as we raise our other hand in union, our fingers glide into each other, intertwining into a ball. I don’t wince. I don't push him away. Instead, I melt into his embrace. It’s not cold and clammy like Victors. It’s the complete opposite. A combination of warmth.
Safety and protection.
A softer music plays in the background. More sensual. But his breath is still harsh. I peek up at him, his jaw is tight, one more bite and he might break it.
“Soon you’ll combust if you don’t relax,” I say softly, our bodies moving together as one. When my hip moves, he moves in the same motion. My foot tips forward, his dip back.
“Take a deep breath,” I whisper, gazing at his neck, the lump bobbing, feeling the pump of his beating heart slowing down. We rock back and forth as he pulls me in closer, dipping his nose to my hair then inhaling softly. I shut my eyes, resting the bridge of my nose on his tux. Taking my own advice into consideration.
He smells absolutely delicious. It's calming, with a musky mixture of amber and sandalwood.
My pulse slows.
I’m at ease for once tonight, but I can't forget the urge in my blood to kill Victor where he stood.
I almost did something that would have ruined us all. I would've risked everything. If Ronan hadn’t stepped in...
My forehead is pressed onto his chest, and I accept his embrace, his touch, the surrender he shields me with. How is it possible to feel peace in a wounded man when there's so much darkness and danger. How...
But Victor being near me made me realize that I truly enjoy Ronan touching me. He brings me the security I haven’t had in years.
“I almost did something,” I blurt out. “If you hadn’t come. This moment would’ve been different.” I release a shuddering breath. “I wanted to kill him right here, Ronan. In front of everyone and not give a damn about the consequences.”
I press closer to his warm chest, as if I’m not already body to body with him. The hold is deep, and it's difficult to not become vulnerable. To swallow myself into him even when we are both holding back from the urge to murder Victor.
“You’re not alone. I’m not sure if I would’ve stopped myself if you weren’t here,” he admits, grazing his lips on my temple, inhaling again. “I’m sorry you had to endure that. That wasn’t part of the plan,” he grits out. I raise my eyes to look at him. His light eyes painted darker. “I fucking hate myself for it.”
I shake my head. “Don’t.”
“He touched you,” he hisses. “He looked at you like a fucking shark, and I couldn’t do anything about it.”
“You did,” I say. “The plan doesn’t always go the way we want. None of us expected him to approach me.” I press my ear to his chest.
Silence strokes the air, muting out background noise. Only the sound of his heart thrumming.
“Did he touch you inappropriately?” He forces out through clenched teeth. His heart bangs loud and fast against my ear, like a machine working on overdrive.
“No.” If he had, it would’ve been a very, very different outcome.
His shoulders slack a little, the speed of his heart slowing. I can't help but wonder, why does it matter who touches me? Why does his heart beat so fast that it may break through his cavity? And why does he make me feel this way?
“I can protect myself.”
Ronan's arm tightens around my waist, and his other hand that is clasped with mine teases over my wrist and veins. He dips his head in the crook of my neck and tilts slightly, so his lips grazes over my ear. “You’re important to me, so I will always protect you. Whether you like it or not.”
I shiver, shaking my head softly. “Why.”
He’s silent for a few seconds. “I have to.”
I want to dig deeper and ask more questions, but I’m clouded by the way he admits these things to me so blatantly that the words are trapped.
“Did Victor say anything?”
Little relief sinks in my chest from the subject change. “Yes, he mentioned something that threw me off.” I tilt my head back to him, the crease in his forehead tightening under the mask.
“What?”
“He said that the people here take, but don’t expect to be taken from.”
He lets out a ragged breath. “This wasn’t just a ploy to lure us out. He’s up to something, and I’m betting it has to do with stealing their money.”
I nod. “But how would that be possible?”
“No clue.” Ronan twirls me around, then gracefully glides me back.
“What should we do?” I rest my hand on his shoulder, and soft melodic tunes swims into my ears.
He lowers his mouth back to my ear. The simple touch sends more tingles down my spine. “We can kill him now and end this madness once and for all.”
I press my hand tighter onto his shoulder. My foot leaning in to twist my hip slightly; Ronan follows, pressing his palm into my lower back to give more slow momentum.
“What happens after that?” I blurt out. I clamp my lips, cursing myself. Shit.
“Whatever you want,” he says with a husky voice. I look at him through my lashes. He’s already watching me. “You can stay.”
My throat swells with a jolt to my heart. Stay.
We continue this sensual sway, our bodies rubbing together in a way that makes me want to finish what we started in that arena.
“I-I can’t.” I look down, regretting my response already, but I know I can’t stay because that was never the plan. It won’t work. This wasn't supposed to happen.
He spins me again, then pulls me back to him. His fingers faintly glide up my forearm as the other rakes up my spine.
I shudder, my breath catching. We look at each other again. “What can I do to convince you?”
I blink, wordless again. My breast flush against him, our heart beats combined making a rhythm of its own. I glance at his lips, and the scar residing on it. The memory of my tongue gliding up the mark before kissing me.
“Have you ever seen a Datura plant grow?” His breath skims across my cheek, sure to be near my ear to get my attention.
“No.” I finally found my voice. I dart around the ball, hoping to concentrate on other things than the simple touch of his hand caressing my lower back.
“But it’s on your dagger?”
My head cocks, narrowing my gaze into his. He knows. Then that means...
“How symbolic.” He smirks. “It’s a beautiful thing to witness. As beautiful as watching you become so weak for me. Then denying to yourself that you’re not.”
My heart drops to my stomach. He squeezes lightly between our entwined fingers. “I’m not—”
“Don’t,” he coaxes. “You of all people know this plant is known for being toxic. It reeks of poison. Poisoning anyone in its path, destroying their cells, and eventually leading them to death.”
I continue to peer around, although my ears are perked, listening to his madness.
“How can something so beautiful under the brightest of the moonlight destroy you in the process of healing you?” he asks me softly in my ear.
A shiver slithers down my spine. I lick over my lips before answering. “Maybe they shouldn’t have been near it. Even when they were warned to stay away from something so harmful.”
He hums deep in his throat, almost like a low growl. “People are naturally drawn to danger, even when they know it’ll ruin them in the end. You can have all the warnings signs and red flags, but it’ll always be difficult to stay away from something so beautiful, so alluring. So dangerously tempting.”
I stay quiet as my insides flutter from his deep voice and captivating words.
He continues, “No one knows, but this plant in particular is more poisonous and lethal than any other night growing plant. But...when combined with another deadly species, its essence is so potent that it can still take away all of one’s emotional, mental, and physical pain.” His large hand skims up my back, cupping my nape, and giving it a squeeze. My heart beats faster. “How is that possible, my little snake?”
I shake my head, my knees becoming weaker. “I don’t know. What are you saying?”
He brushes his fingers across my knuckles, before pulling me away with a whirly spin and this time, my back lands against his hard chest.
His places his palm on my belly and my hands fly to the spot, and it's so warm that it feels like it's burning into my dress. Ronan dips to my ear and whispers. “Poison cures poison, my sweet venom.”
My breath escapes, and I search for air, words, a language. Anything to get my body back into circulation. Why would he tell me that? How can something so dangerous and toxic and create something beautifully chaotic?
“Sorry to interrupt your steamy duo dance, but the target is making his way up the steps as I speak. Now or never.” Wicked’s voice interrupts the connection like glass shattering around us.
I reluctantly peel away from his hold, swallowing again as goose flesh runs up my arms and back. I brush them away, diverting my gaze anywhere else but his. Ronan takes my hand to guide us away from the crowd.
“Where to,” he says, our bodies slipping through people.
I spot Wicked atop the balcony, walking in our direction. “Straight and narrow. Hallway.”
“Coming up behind yah.” Boone's deep voice shakes through my earpiece.
“We need to follow him and see where he goes,” I say, finally finding myself back into this reality.
We arrive at the flight of stairs. “I need you two down here to hold off the guards if need be,” Ronan advises Boone and Mal as he breaks his hand from my own. He takes the grand steps to the left, and I take the ones to the right. I stay behind a few guests, keeping my eyes on Victor until he disappears into the hall. I quicken my steps, making it to the top.
Ronan comes beside me. “It’s time.” Victor walks further down, then rounds a corner.
My heart begins to throb into my throat, the anticipation getting me excited for what's to come. What will I do when we approach him? Kill him, of course! He needs to be ridden of this earth.
We make it to the end hall, our backs propped against the wall that cuts off to the corner. I’m at the front, so I peel around, only enough to where my eye gets a view of everything.
I made it in time to see him unlock a door and walk inside. I lay back flat. “He went inside a room, fourth door to the left. It seems like he used a hand scanner to enter.”
“Then, we’ll just do it the old-fashioned way.”
I raise my brows at him, thrill sprouting like a bouncy spring. “Oh, what’s that? We explode the door.”
Ronan’s eyes gleam mischievously. “If only I had an explosive on me. But no, we knock,” he grumbles, turning his head both directions.
I snicker. “That's less fun.” Not what I had in mind, but then again, I had no other choices.
“Mal. Boone. I’m going to need you two to keep as many guards from coming to the room. Create a distraction,” Ronan orders in the earpiece.
Static comes through my earpiece as well. “No problem. Distraction is my middle name.”
I cringe at the cliché catchphrase. It’s a disaster. I look at Ronan who looks back at me, shutting his eyes for a moment and shaking his head stiffly.
“That's Mal,” I mumble under my breath, looking away to spot anyone coming.
“Let's go,” he says, reaching behind his back. I nod slowly as we both move around the corner, our steps light and inaudible. Thank God for the runner going through the hall. My heartbeat dwindles, and my normal jittery dissipates once we approach the door. Ronan has already drawn his weapon.
I frown at his gun as I slide out my dagger. “How’d you sneak that in?”
His lips curls to the side. “It's not mine.” Now I see what he was doing while he was gone. It sucks that I missed it. He nods at my hand. “And you?”
I smirk. “They didn't pat below the waist.” Which was quite risky, but I go nowhere without my dagger.
His eyes darken and his smile drops. “They still got the privilege to touch you.”
Heat flushes over my cheeks, and before I can respond, Ronan raises his arms, aiming the pistol at the door. His stance measured and ready as he tilts his head slightly to get a reliable shot.
“We don’t kill him until we know what he’s up to,” Ronan speaks low.
I nod in understanding. I go to knock against the door. Each tap fires a bolt of electricity through my arm.
Three.
Two.
...
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