Chapter 30 Ezekial
“Tomorrow morning, straight to the Lead Commanders’ meeting?” Jasmine confirms, repeating back an earlier conversation.
She’s dropped the mental wall, and I’m taking full advantage.
It started with questions about the banking app, then I suggested others: a language app, email, clothing, food, and then we didn’t stop.
“We’ll go straight to my office from here.”
Much to Sai’s irritation and his disgruntled complaints that now I was cutting into his alone time.
“Any more ideas on who the leak might be?” she asks.
I slip the tie from my collar. It’s been hours since we started talking, but I’ve been so engrossed I still haven’t undressed.
“Everything indicates it’s one of the four… Hopefully.”
“Hopefully?”
“Hopefully only one.”
Her voice turns softer. “How well do you know them?”
“Apparently, not as well as I thought.” My jaw tightens. Another betrayal by yet another friend...
“We’ll figure it out.” And now she’s reassuring me? “Can I get some info on them before tomorrow?”
“I can show you their service files.”
There’s a pause too long.
“Great, just send—”
“I could come over and—”
Our sentences collide. Then stop. I wait for her to continue, but she doesn’t.
“You could come over…” I try again, trying to sound casual, like the idea of her being here with me isn’t already making my darkness stir. “The files are on my tablet.”
Another pause, heavier.
“Email them to me?”
Now I’m cursing myself for suggesting that app. “They’re… highly classified.”
“Don’t trust me, Lord?”
This woman. “I don’t trust electronics. Not you, never you.”
“Nice save.” I hear the smile catching her words.
She’s onto me and my not-at-all subtle tactics. Damn, I’m normally good at this, using words to get my way. But with her, I can’t mask my desperation.
So I might as well push it.
“Come over, I’ll cook. We can keep talking, I’ll show you how to use the apps… and you can keep pretending last night didn’t happen.”
The silence turns tense, but I feel her mind humming with possibilities.
“I’ll look at the files tomorrow morning,” she says. Shit, I pushed too hard—“And as for last night, I think you might be imagining things, my lord.”
I tip my head back with a groan, one I ensure to block.
She’s so good at this. Teasing, dragging me in with those little drops of attention, then vanishing before I can hold on.
“I’ll see you in the morning,” she adds, calm and cordial, a clear ending. But then softer, with a spark of mischief: “Sleep well... Think of me.”
Think of her? My mind is already consumed. By her presence, her laugh, the light she exudes. All I do is think of her.
With that, I feel her pull away. But the wall never returns fully. Her thoughts brush against the edge of mine, never in words, just touches, taunting, teasing touches. She’s not running, she’s purposefully dancing out of reach.
And when I catch her… I won’t let her go.
***
Immortality frees me from the need to rest, yet I’ve slept more in this apartment, beside Jasmine’s wall, than I have in decades. Most nights I have to fight the pull to join her.
Luckily, when I feel Jasmine fall asleep, my mind is too preoccupied to succumb.
Before Jasmine, time spent together as a full, four-man unit was rare. Our contact used to be scraps, mainly texting in a group chat, an occasional video call always instigated by Sai—and never accepted by Kane—until Julien enforced Friday meals, and I added Monday meetings.
So tomorrow’s meeting will be a rarity. Four high-ranking officers in one room, perfect for rattling the Leads.
But it won’t just be four, not anymore, it’ll be five. Though I understand my brother’s hesitations for Jasmine being there, we all agreed it was necessary, right.
I’ll lead the meeting, and the others will serve their purposes.
Julien, our lie detector.
Sai, mockery on legs.
Kane, pure intimidation.
And Jasmine: empath, manipulator, our secret weapon. She’ll feel their deception, then choke them with it.
The thrum of excitement spiking our bond as we discussed our roles and tactics, while imagining her there, knowing what she’ll bring to this unit, our unit, even Kane couldn’t mask it.
I lean back against the wall. I dragged the bed here last night, after we… I drop my tablet on the side table, taking off my glasses to rub my eyes. I’m imagining it too often, too vividly, it’s like I can feel her…
My darkness bristles just before there’s a sound. A pounding. Dull, slow, but heavy.
Insistent.
Coming from… the door? I flit out of bed and reach it in one stride, pulling it open—
And there she is.
A dream.
Jasmine.
Barefoot and… asleep. Wearing my hoodie. The one Kane borrowed and never returned. Now I know why. It drowns her frame, sleeves hanging over her hands, but the hem rides scandalously high on her thighs. One shoulder slips free, revealing smooth, pale skin like sin dipped in moonlight.
My mouth goes dry. “You’ve got to be kidding me,” I murmur.
Her eyes flutter but don’t open. She sways, then—
She steps inside.
No hesitation. Just walks straight past me, asleep, like she’s drawn here. To me.
She turns slightly, face soft in sleep, lips parted, hair a wild, halo of crimson. She’s the most dangerous thing I’ve ever seen.
And I’ve faced monsters.
I curse under my breath. “This is cruel,” I mutter hoarsely, casting a glance at the ceiling like the Goddess might be watching.
I have to take her back. That’s the right thing. That’s what a respectable gentleman would do.
I reach out, fingers brushing her arm to guide her—her eyes snap open.
She blinks, disoriented. “Zeek?” she rasps, her hazy gaze flickering around the room like a lost lamb.
Fuck being a gentleman.
“You were sleepwalking.” My voice is soft and low, coaxing. She blinks again, trying to piece it all together. “You were banging on my door.” I step closer. “Demanding to be let in.”
Her lips part as she looks over her shoulder and sees the open door. But not for long. One silver wisp, and it slams shut.
The sound echoes, and everything intensifies. When her half-lidded gaze returns to mine, she swallows.
And I come undone.
“This is your last chance to leave,” I murmur. “Your only chance.” Her eyes lock with mine. “If you don’t… you’re mine.”
I watch every micro movement, the dilation of her pupils, the parting of her lips. A predator studying its prey, waiting for its chance to devour.
“Do you understand?” My voice is thick, drenched with dark desire.
I don’t repeat myself. I can’t. So I motion to the door with a nod. That’s all I can give, because I’m staring at her mouth, her parted lips so soft and swollen—fuck.
I close my eyes, drag in a sharp breath through my nose. I can’t watch her go, I can’t let my darkness, because the second she tries to leave, we’ll lunge.
When I don’t hear a thing, no footsteps, no words, I look.
She’s moving, but not to the door. She’s moving closer, further inside. Those wide, beautiful eyes never wavering as she steps past me, and I turn, following her until it’s my back facing the exit, and we’re face to face again.
“You say stop,” I grit out, “and everything ends.”
She nods, and my vision darkens at the edges.
I move carefully, prowling closer. Her breath turns into short, sharp bursts that drive me mad. I’m a beast barely leashed, and she has no idea. No idea how close I am to breaking.
Then she steps back, and that uncertainty, that flicker of hesitation in her gaze, it only makes me hungrier.
I lunge.
She gasps as my hands grip her hips, lifting and dropping her onto the closest counter.
My fingers burn, touching her is electrifying, like a shot of adrenaline. But it’s not enough. I’m desperate for more.
To feel more. To see more.
“Show me,” I command. “Show me what’s underneath my brother’s clothes.”
Her breaths are ragged, wide eyes locked on me, and I know I’m half man, half beast. I know my irises are infected with black. But she isn’t afraid, no, and she listens.
Gripping the bottom of my hoodie, she starts to lift.
“Slowly,” I grit out.
She pauses, never dropping her eyes as she slows her speed. When the silky black material of her underwear peeks out, I stop breathing.
“That’s it,” I murmur, darkness curling around each syllable. “Show me.”
The smooth skin of her stomach is next, and the milky contrast against the black loosens the chain.
She is a creature of complete contrasts, gracing the edge of light and dark, otherworldly.
And she is mine.
When she reveals the soft underside of her breast, she stills, and I almost reach out to rip the material in half.
“No,” I warn, placing my fingers over hers and lifting. “Keep going.”
Pupils so blown there’s barely an ember of red, her darkness skirts to the surface, caught up in all this depravity, but it’s still Jasmine. It’s always her. Even when she tries to deny it, tries to hide behind it.
I encourage her movement, gently pulling, until her dusty pink nipple slips out—it becomes too much.
In one tug, it’s over her head and off, thrown to the side. She’s completely bare to me now, except the small, black underwear—that’s it.
She doesn’t move as my gaze devours her, her breaths quick, little pants, palms flat on the counter, propping her up as she stares at me, looking so innocent.
Because I’m the monstrous beast and she’s my prey.
I place one hand on her thigh and groan. Fuck. I’ve barely touched her, and my body hums with need.
My other hand comes down, engulfing each thigh as I pull her legs wider. She stills, then pushes against me, tries to stop me from opening her up, from seeing more of her.
“No,” I warn, never dropping my gaze. “Open.”
I pull again, and they part.
“Keep them open.” I drag her towards me by her thighs, until her hot heat almost touches my legs.
I stare down at that tiny piece of fabric, mesmerised. She’s close enough that I can see how the middle is slightly damp—wet.
I need that fabric gone. Lifting one hand from her thigh, my fingers move towards it—
“Ezekial—”
I silence her with one look.