Chapter 28 #2
“Well…” I let out a laugh, shaking my head.
“I don’t know, maybe something a little more…
mysterious.” I flick water absently, watching ripples spread across the surface.
“I can’t picture you at a ball, mingling with people, pretending to enjoy yourself.
No offense, but you seem more like the type to be off doing something a little more… illegal. Or at least, less refined.”
His low, deep chuckle rolls through the quiet. “So you’ve got me all figured out, do you?”
I flick a little water in his direction. “Maybe I do,” I tease, “But come on, you cannot tell me this is your crowd.”
Okay, maybe that was a little unfair. Especially since we’re both here. He might think this is my comfort zone, but truthfully, I enjoy the quiet.
“Funny,” he says smoothly, stepping closer. “I could say the same about you.”
Touché. I guess I did walk right into that one.
I look up at him, and the way he watches me feels like a game I’m not entirely sure I know the rules to, but I don’t back down.
“All right then,” I cross my arms. “Why did you come tonight? Or is this secretly your thing after all?”
His chuckle is edged with something unreadable. Shocker.
“Just doing my duty, love.”
Duty?
I narrow my eyes. “There go those vague answers again,” I say, shaking my head. “You know, I'm going to let you in on a little secret, because that’s what friends do.” I emphasize friends, mostly for my own benefit. “Sharing is caring,” I add with a grin.
“Alright,” he says, the corner of his mouth quirking up. “Do you really want to know?”
I nod, anticipation buzzing in my veins. “Obviously.”
Kane glances around, checking to make sure no one’s listening, then steps closer, leaning in so I can feel his breath brush my cheek.
“I’m here because I was invited,” he whispers. “But also… to keep an eye on certain people. Make sure they’re safe.”
He leans back, looking at me.
Oh. Right. Security. He’s working.
“Safe from what exactly?” My voice is quieter than I intend. “Is this place not safe enough?”
“Mostly here to protect people from themselves.” His gaze drops down to my boots, then back up. “Especially with the death traps these women are calling shoes tonight.”
He winks, walking around the fountain. “Honestly, I’m impressed you haven’t ended up headfirst in the fountain yet.”
Without thinking, I flick a handful of water at him. This time, I don’t miss. Water clings to the edge of his sleeve, but he doesn't even flinch.
“Oh, you think you’re hilarious, don’t you?” I try to hide my smile. But his laugh only deepens as he gets closer. I straighten slowly, edging away from the fountain. “Not funny.”
His smirk doesn’t fade for a second. “Oh, I'm hilarious.”
“Well, excuse me for being genuinely curious about who could possibly need that much protection at a party,” I huff, crossing my arms.
His gaze is playful, but still sharp enough to pin me in place. “I know. That’s exactly what made it so funny.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I mutter, attempting to brush him off. The light of the moon catches him just right and I lose my train of thought entirely, my breath stalling.
He looks like he was made for this—wrapped in shadow, and carved out of moonlight. Every sharp line of his face belongs here. And of course that damn mask is doing just enough to make him look untouchable.
I catch myself staring at him, knowing I should look away but finding it impossible. That infuriating pull between us only tightens, and it’s beyond annoying, and I silently curse him for it.
The way he’s just standing there, completely still, completely in control, while I’m completely undone is annoying.
No matter how impossibly frustrating he is, no matter how insufferable, I can’t help but wish he’d reach out and touch me again. That he’d drag those rough hands down my body, claim me in a way that leaves no question about what’s been simmering between us since the moment we met.
The ache digs deep, and heat spills into something darker. I squeeze my thighs together, like I can somehow smother the feeling, but it only makes me more aware of the steady pulse of want.
A slow smile tugs at the corner of his mouth. “You’re staring.”
“Maybe I'm just enjoying the view.” My voice barely above a whisper. Shit. Did I really just say that out loud? The second it leaves my lips, my heart stutters, and every nerve in my body goes tight.
I have no reservations when it comes to him. Even when that honesty leaves me exposed.
His gaze darkens, hunger and amusement coiling together like he’s thoroughly entertained by how easy this is for him. The look he gives me sends a shiver down my spine. He’s watching me unravel, and he’s not even touching me.
Part of me is begging myself to retreat.
To go back to the ballroom, to get out of this dangerous game while I still can.
But then there’s the other part of me, the wild, reckless side.
The side that wants to throw caution to the wind.
The defiant, feminine part of me that wants to let him strip me down to nothing, unravel me piece by piece.
To see exactly how far he could break me apart.
“We should head back.”
His words cut through the haze like a cold blade, severing the moment so brutally it feels personal. My stomach drops so hard it’s embarrassing.
I blink, dazed, feeling the tension rip away so fast I feel unsteady.
He’s a man. He knows exactly what he’s doing.
His expression remains unreadable as he extends his hand, and I hesitate, feeling the weight of the moment settle over me. He doesn’t move closer, doesn’t pull me in, doesn’t lean down, or brush his lips against my ear.
He doesn’t do a damn thing. And the pang of disappointment that hits me is sharp and unexpected, sinking deep into my stomach, twisting tighter than I care to admit.
I hate him for this.
For knowing exactly what he’s doing and how wrecked I am right now and doing absolutely nothing about it.
But before I can spiral any further, I feel that same warmth creeping across my skin like a slow burn. A tingling, flickering sensation dancing over my palms.
Not now.
Panic claws at my throat and I ball my fists like that'll trick anyone into thinking I've got this under control. The ringing in my ears gets louder. I lock onto the cold air, Kane's hand in mine, anything that isn't the spiral threatening to eat me alive.
I take a deep breath and open my eyes. That's when I see a woman standing in the shadows, watching me.
My steps halt immediately, and my stomach twists into knots as soon as our eyes meet. For a fraction of a second, her expression shifts and a smile spreads across her face.
My grip on Kane tightens, stopping him mid-step, but the second I look back at her, she’s gone. Vanished into the night like she was never there.
My pulse pounds as I scan the shadows, searching for any trace of her. Maybe she went around the corner?
Kane’s voice cuts through my thoughts. “What’s wrong?”
I force my eyes back to him and I can feel my heart hammering against my ribs. “Nothing,” I say quickly, but the slight tremor in my voice betrays me. “I just thought I saw someone standing over there.”
I nod toward the spot, still scanning the darkness, half-expecting her to reappear, half-terrified she actually will.
Kane follows my line of sight, and I feel the shift before I even look at him.
The relaxed amusement from earlier is gone, replaced with something colder.
His eyes flicker across the area scanning every shadow, every possible movement, assessing the space with a lethal efficiency.
“Whoever it was, they’re long gone,” he says finally, though the weight in his tone tells me he isn’t convinced.
Neither am I.
His eyes linger on me for a beat too long, like he’s weighing his next words, deciding whether to push or let it slide. His voice drops slightly, quieter but no less intense. “You sure you’re alright?”
I nod, even though my pulse is still hammering in my ears. Who the hell was she? And why did she look at me like that?
We continue walking, and the silence between us stretches, thick with unspoken questions neither of us dares to ask. We're almost to the door when something snags my attention, yanking me out of my head.
The lights are all fixed. That was… fast.
I hesitate for a second, looking from the light to Kane, suspicion curling in my chest.
He catches the look I give him, and of course, smiles.
The back-and-forth of emotions tonight is enough to make my head spin. One second, I’m fighting off the unease from the shadows outside. The next, I’m hyper-aware of Kane’s presence, and the tension stretched so tight that it feels like one wrong move could snap it in two.
If only I could convince my body that all of this is exactly why we’re steering clear of dating for the foreseeable future. That would be lovely. But no, my pulse refuses to listen. It refuses to do anything other than quicken every damn time he looks at me like that.
The heat of the greenhouse presses against my skin as we step inside, and suddenly, the tension from outside fades.
I let my fingers brush over the broad petals of a nearby plant, tracing the edges almost absently. There’s something raw and untamed about it, something unapologetic, kind of like how this whole damn night has felt.
Kane’s voice breaks the silence, but it's low and almost too quiet to catch.
“You’re fascinating, you know that?”
I blink, turning to him, my heart skipping exactly once before I shove the reaction down where it belongs.
I roll my eyes, grinning as I lean into the sarcasm like the lifeline I desperately need. “What can I say? I’m an acquired taste.”
I look over at him, all challenge and reckless defiance, and let my smile widen. “If you don’t like it, then I guess that means you should acquire some taste.”
He chuckles, but there’s something about the way his gaze lingers on me.
“So when do I get to see you throw a knife?” His brow lifts, the corner of his mouth tilting in amusement.
“Oh, that’s right! I can’t wait for you to owe me a favor.” I let out a low hum, tapping my fingers on my chin. “Guess we’ll play as soon as you’re ready.”
He huffs out a laugh, shaking his head like he thinks he’s already won. “I’ll find a knife right now if you’re that confident.”
“Do it,” I challenge, stepping just close enough to let the air between us tighten. “Unless you’re scared.”
There's a glint of something deadly in his eyes, and I dare him to actually go find one. I could throw a knife in my sleep, and watching the look on his face when I prove it would be the perfect cherry on top of an already fantastic evening.
“Confident, aren’t you?” He teases. That damn smile is doing exactly what it does best. Looking cocky, and sexy as hell.
“Well, you know what they say…” I trail off, my grin turning sharper.
He stops, looking at me. “No, I don’t. Care to enlighten me?”
Shit, I don’t actually have a follow-up for that.
I roll my eyes. “Honestly, I just figured you’d nod along and pretend you knew what I was talking about.”
His laughter rumbles low and he looks at me with a heat that feels entirely too dangerous, like it’s wrapping around me.
“Who are you?” The words land low and rough, crawling under my skin before I can shove them out. The way he says it feels like he’s pulling me in, unraveling me without even trying.
“Who are you?” I fire back, tilting my chin up, letting the challenge slip into my voice like armor.
He doesn’t look away and neither do I. “Touché.”
The moment should end there, but it doesn’t.
The question lingers, heavier than it should be.
Because the truth is, I don’t even know how to answer him.
Ever since I lost my grandfather, it feels like pieces of me have been scattered, slipping through my fingers.
Like the person I thought I was has been left behind somewhere and now I'm just an outline, blurred and incomplete.
Of course, I'm heartbroken that they're gone. But I’m left with so many questions.
I can’t even answer the most basic things.
Like how my parents died, where they were born, how old they were.
And now, with that chest, those letters, and everything that’s happening lately, it’s like someone handed me a puzzle with half the pieces missing.
And now, there’s no one left to ask. No one left to guide me.
And that’s the part that cuts the deepest.
The emotions coil tight in my chest, threatening to drag me under, and I don’t want to drown in them. I need to move.
I look away and round the corner, letting my hands graze over the leaves. That’s when I see the broken pot still lying on the ground.
I bend down, picking up one of the larger shards, and everything shifts.
Warmth wraps around me, and the scent of lavender and old books fills my lungs, pulling me into something I shouldn’t be able to step into.