Chapter 2
“Oof!” I cry out, my mask sliding across my face.
Was that a brick fucking wall? The male suddenly grips my shoulders, holding me at arm’s length as we face each other. Only now I’m annoyed, because why didn’t he see me?
“I’m sorry,” I grunt. “I didn’t see you, but surely you saw me standing here.”
I fix my mask and look up, finding that he’s very tall. With a large step back, I attempt to view the stealthy guest—his features mostly hidden by a large hood reaching past his forehead. Go figure.
I mentally kick myself for not knowing that someone was behind me—almost like he appeared from nowhere—and quickly scan the corridor only to find us completely alone. My fingers twitch, itching to grab the missing daggers that are typically secured to my waist as I size him up. My teeth grind.
That’s the only rule I hate.
“And who are you?” His voice comes out low and resonant as he glares down at me from behind his dark red mask.
“No names, remember?” I flash him an annoyed smile, reminding him of one of the rules, and dust off my tunic.
“Right, I almost forgot,” he says, his lips tipping up as he glances past me, nodding in Bess’s direction. “Are you enjoying the view?”
Heat sears my face when I glance behind me, seeing Bess. Gods. “Oh, no, it’s not what it—”
“You were watching, weren’t you?”
My eyes narrow. “I was seeing if my friend was… I wasn’t…
” Good gods, why am I flustered? I take a deep breath, composing myself.
“I don’t think it’s your place to ask me what I was or wasn’t doing.
Who are you anyway, or are you just sneaking around making others feel uncomfortable? Are you with anyone?”
I crane my neck to peer around him, the corridor still shadowed and empty, before flicking my eyes back. Although dark, I can make out some of his features. The mask conceals from his brows to the bottom of his nose, which I see is pointed from our height difference—he’s perhaps six foot three.
His hood remains up, but shadows dance across his face from the lanterns hanging off the walls, accentuating his jawline. Something shiny sits across his top lip—a scar, maybe—and he’s noticeably attractive regardless of what I can’t fully see.
But I don’t recognize him. No. I would have remembered his voice if we had crossed paths before.
“Did I make you feel uncomfortable?” He chuckles quietly. “I’m not here with anyone. I do have a meeting, though.” He nods to one of the private rooms nearby, but the way his eyes meet mine leaves me to believe he’s rethinking his own plans. “Are you waiting on the male?”
My eyes dart past to the empty wall behind him as a small grin pulls at my mouth. “I was waiting for the female.”
Then an odd wave of familiarity skitters across my skin when the faint earthy scent of him drifts by. I can’t quite place why when he—very noticeably—scans me with his eyes.
“You’re waiting on the female?” he asks.
“Females know how to please better.” Nothing could convince me that males are better lovers when females know exactly what you need.
His eyes track the way I cross my arms, staring at me in a way that makes me feel like he can see me without my mask. My neck flushes, and I find myself suddenly unsure of my movements, which is unlike me.
His mouth slowly rises into a cocky smirk. “Is that so? Well, if you’re going in there with her, I want to watch.”
Words suddenly fail me, my cheeks flushing.
No one’s ever wanted to watch before. His words are arrogant—even a little ridiculous—but the way he says them has my core heating and my head tilting to the side.
A sudden curiosity blooms in my chest, and it takes me a few breaths to gather my thoughts before I offer him a slow, curious grin.
“You’re bold,” I say.
He only chuckles, casually placing his hands in his pockets.
“Maybe a little. You must not have much experience if you think females are the only ones capable of giving adequate pleasure,” he says with a lazy grin, but then it falls, a seriousness coating his tone for a breath.
“Would you like for me to change your mind? I’d love to show you what real pleasure is like.
” He leans down, whispering inches from me, “We are in a brothel.”
Oh, he is bold. And very cocky, it seems. Yet my eyes narrow as I step back again, giving him another casual once-over.
“Maybe some other time,” I say, his eyes flicking to my lips. My breath hitches, and I’m suddenly unable to stop my tongue from grazing my bottom lip. Like I can’t help myself.
A lingering silence hangs between us, my pulse skyrocketing as his intense stare meets mine. My eyes dart across the sharp lines of his mask, trying to decide if he’s toying with me or if he actually wants to follow through with that promise.
A promise that’s suddenly enticing to me the longer I stand here. He has an enthralling, commanding energy, and I find myself wondering what a male like him is doing at the Painted Bird.
Lips parting, I eye the faint scar rising on the right side of his lip, realizing that he must feel the charged space between us too. His chest heaves. His mouth hovers over mine, inches from me.
But why do I suddenly want to brush my lips across his? What an odd, unfamiliar feeling…
My fingers twitch as the wild thoughts whirl in my head, and I suddenly find myself wanting to touch him. Without a second thought, I reach up to graze his scar with my fingers, closing the distance.
I suck in a sharp breath, my stomach dipping when his hand shoots out with a low growl, catching mine before I can graze my fingers along the hard lines of his face.
With a small tug, I attempt to pull back, but our hands remain frozen in the air, our eyes locking with challenge.
Is he angry or curious? It’s hard to tell with these damn masks, but my brow arches at his refusal to let me go. Without warning, he backs me against a wall, bracing a hand beside my face with a low, heated hum.
My breath catches in my throat when my hand goes cold—icy, almost—forcing my gaze to his chest. Then my brows pinch, my eyes landing on what look to be shadows skimming my—
“And you said I was bold,” he mumbles, forcing my gaze back up. “I really want to see where this goes, but I’m late for my meeting. What are you doing tomorrow night? I’m in town for a few days.”
He wants to meet tomorrow? A low chuckle escapes me as I study him, my eyes raking over his masked face.
I’m suddenly unsure about this exchange.
Not only do I not linger after visiting the brothel, but relationships outside of the brotherhood are strictly forbidden.
We aren’t even allowed sexual relationships within the brotherhood.
King Elion doesn’t like distractions—anything that pulls our focus away from his missions—so if we have needs, the brothel is where we go.
But it’s clear that this male doesn’t work here, as he’s also wearing a mask.
“I have… things to do,” I quip.
“Things… like what?”
“Not you,” I reply sarcastically, adding emphasis to the you part, but I can tell he doesn’t believe me. “There’s no need to come back for someone’s sloppy seconds. I’m sure you could find someone else to satisfy you tomorrow, so why don’t you do that instead?”
“I know I could, but I don’t want to. And I can assure you, nothing I give is ever sloppy.” His gaze lands on my lips. “What can I say? I’m… curious.”
I chuckle. “What could you be curious about, exactly? You’ve spoken to me for what… a few minutes? I’m not a courtesan.”
“I know you’re not a courtesan. But I am curious to know what your mouth tastes like… and that’s not the only reason.” He pulls back to look at me, his voice dipping low. “You look like you like it rough.”
A low heat suddenly travels down my body, settling at the apex of my thighs, and I’m forced to swallow the breath caught in my throat at how right that assumption is. I do like that, but how did he read me so well?
“I’d prefer you on your knees with your head between my legs.” I grin, throwing him a teasing wink. “I won’t be here tomorrow, but you’re more than welcome to think about me later.”
He exhales, the sound amusing as he assesses me, as if figuring out a way to change my mind.
Then his attention shifts to the wall behind me.
His head tilts, eyes narrowing almost like he’s listening to something and causing a whirl of unease to curl my stomach.
With a quick glance around, I know we’re the only ones in this hall when his gaze lands on mine again.
“What if I said please? Are you going to make me beg for it?” he asks, almost breathlessly.
“You don’t look like the begging type.”
“I’m not.” He throws me a lazy half grin, so close to me that I catch the faint oakmoss that lingers on his skin. Then my eyes narrow as I actually begin to think about the request.
If he’s only in town for a few days, perhaps I wouldn’t have to see him all the time, meaning I wouldn’t be breaking any rules within the brotherhood. He also looks as if he has connections in the realm—he could help me discreetly search for my parents.
Another silent minute passes before I give him a small smirk, my eyes suddenly lingering on his lips.
“Fine. I’d hate to see you on your knees, begging. Tomorrow night, then,” I say.
A blur of someone walks past, but I don’t take my eyes off the mysterious male, searching his face. Then a throat clears in the doorway—Bess.
I glance to my left, meeting her gaze. She studies me with a raised brow, brown hair spilling over her shoulders, wearing loose linen clothes. A smirk slowly lines her mouth, and I realize that the male she was with was the one who walked by.
“Bess, hi!” I exclaim. The male in front of me steps away, leaving me feeling alone and cold against the wall.
“Tomorrow.” He nods to me, smirking as he turns away, then disappears into the private room across from us.
I shoot a quick glance at Bess with a small grin, brows raised as we exchange similar looks.