Chapter Four #2
“What makes you think I need help? Do you have any idea of who I am?”
“Everyone needs help at some point in their life… no matter who they are.” The argument sounds weak, even to my ears.
“And if I did, how is someone like you qualified to help me?”
Despair claws up my throat. “Accept my offer and see for yourself.”
He inhales sharply. His piercing blue gaze searches my face for a long moment.
It was a reckless offer, but… is it possible that he needs something desperately enough to consider my offer?
When he seems to come to a conclusion, he braces a forearm against the wall, trapping me in the cage of his body.
He leans in, brings his mouth close to my ear on the opposite side, and says, “Do you have any idea what you have done?” His warm breath caresses my cheek, but it is the question that sends an icy chill down to the marrow of my bones.
My mouth goes dry. “What I’ve… done?”
“Have you not wondered why I am here—how I found you so easily?” He leans in, bringing a hand up to trail a finger along my jaw to grip my chin between his thumb and forefinger. “You trespassed onto fae lands.”
He smells of a warm spring day. Of sun and trees and wind. The graceful features of his handsome face turn hard.
“Trespassed…” I murmur.
His proximity is making it hard to think. His touch is cold, and I can feel it radiate from his body along every inch of mine. Is he using glamour or compulsion on me?
“I…”
“You left your glove at the scene of the crime. From there, it was child’s play hunting you down.”
“My glove?” I frown. I thought my glove fell out of my pocket at the archives, but it seems it was nothing more than a ruse. A way to ensure he had the one he wanted. “I didn’t mean to—”
“Didn’t mean to?” he mocks. “You did not mean to what?”
I squeeze my eyes shut and shake my head, trying to clear my mind. “No, I—”
My eyes snap open at the loud thud of his fist against the wall.
“Do not think of trying to deny it,” he grinds out. “You took what was not yours.”
“Took?”
He pauses to breathe as if reining in his temper. When he speaks again, each word is slow and measured. “Will you stop repeating me as though you are some half-wit?”
I lower my chin and press my back against the wall, wishing it would swallow me. I do not think anyone has ever spoken to me with such venom or contempt in my life. Yet even I can admit that it’s not entirely unearned. He has not accused me of anything I’m not guilty of.
As much as I want to deny everything until he believes me, I cannot bear to lower myself to such dishonesty.
Is there anything I could say to make things right without forfeiting my life?
My eyes remain locked on our feet. “I am sorry.”
“There are traces of the frost bloom all over you.”
It’s not a question, but still, I nod.
“Is there anything left of it?”
I shake my head.
He falls quiet, the tension leaves his body as I wait for his next words. His judgment.
I knew the consequences when I decided to take the book from the archives.
“Let me—” He shakes his head. “Will you allow me to check you?” he asks in an unexpectedly gentle tone.
Slowly, I lift my gaze but cannot quite make myself meet his eye. He is within his rights to end my life.
“Please, don’t hurt me.” I cannot stop the words from rising up my chest and escaping.
He becomes so utterly still that I’m not sure he is even breathing.
“I will not hurt you,” he says after a moment, almost tenderly.
Perhaps it is a mistake to trust him, but I do. I want to believe him. I nod, but when he doesn’t do anything, I say, “Yes, you may check.”
He cups my jaw with both hands and moves closer and closer, lowering his face until our noses are just shy of touching.
His mouth parts ever so slightly. I am too stunned to be embarrassed by the intimacy of his proximity.
Everything about him is made to seduce. His touch.
His grace. The fullness of his lips. Even the scar that cuts through one eye from brow to cheek adds an air of allure that could put anyone’s heart in danger of becoming beholden to him with just the right touch.
I hold my breath, unsure what or how he intends to find whatever he is looking for while doing my best to ignore that ridiculous voice in the back of my head, wondering if he plans on kissing me.
His eyes light up, a molten-gold ring encircling his irises flares, making the blue illuminate to an impossibly bright shade… the color of an intense summer sky. A soft glow radiates from within.
My head swims as his power takes hold. I am clay in his hands. It should frighten me with the way he could do anything to me in this moment, and I couldn’t stop him.
“I… feel it inside you,” he says so quietly, I would think I imagined it if not for his breath ghosting over my lips.
The spell is broken when he blinks, and his eyes return to their normal inhuman hue.
He releases me and straightens. “Not only did you prepare the drink, but you did it flawlessly. I do not know how, but you have come to possess knowledge only…” His words trail off, but he doesn’t need to finish that thought.
Demon shit. He knows everything.