Prologue, part I #3
Sure. Whatever he says. “Quick question. If the two of you are out here, who’s watching Desmond? Dallas?”
Dallas Collins is Jack Collins’s only kid.
Technically, he’s the one true heir, the boy who will be King one day, but everyone in Harmony Heights knows that Jack is doing his best to groom Adrian into taking over the role.
Dallas… he’s too fucked-up to lead the society, and that’s all Jack’s own doing.
Sebastien and Connor exchange a look.
“Dallas passed on the party,” Bas eventually says. “His dad had him taking care of some shit earlier. It’s probably a good idea he stayed at the Fortress instead of coming over tonight.”
Considering I’ve overheard my dad and some of the other members of the Order discussing the sort of things that Jack has his eighteen-year-old son doing as his enforcer, I’m pretty sure he’s right.
But if Connor and Sebastien are out here with me, and Adrian—the head of the Heirs—obviously gave orders to his buddies to keep an eye on Loni’s boyfriend…
The two guys figure it out at the same time. Connor turns to look at Bas, something passes between them, and Bas nods.
“You finish up out here, Connor. I’ll go find Des and keep him off the second floor. And Con?”
“Yeah, bro?”
“Remember what we were talking about the other day at Adrian’s, yeah? If you want something, go for it. There’s not much time left for any of us.”
With a quick look my way, Sebastien slips back inside. I don’t know exactly what Connor is supposed to be going for, but before I can make my excuses and follow after Sebastien, Connor’s hands are on my shoulders.
What the—
Oh. His grip slides down, pinning my upper arms in place as he pulls me toward him. Next thing I know, he’s used his impressive strength—after all, he’s a star lacrosse player for Harmony Heights High—to lift me up so that I’m on the tiptoes of my sandals.
He angles his head downward, pressing his lips to mine. Undeniably shocked, I gasp, and he takes advantage of the way my mouth opens to slip his tongue inside. One hand goes to my loose hair. He threads his fingers through the strands, holding me right where he wants me as he kisses me.
I’ve been kissed before. My mother would have a heart attack if she knew, but the way I interpreted virginity meant no penetrative sex.
As long as I kept a dick away from my naked lower half, I was golden.
True, I haven’t had many experiences thanks to constantly being monitored, but I’ve had more than a few kisses.
I hate that none of them have been as all-consuming as the way that Connor Heyward steals this one.
He’s not my Owed. I’m not his Offering. Despite what Sebastien said, I’ve never known Connor not to be flirtatious.
In fact, I wouldn’t have been surprised to hear that he was upstairs with someone like Lindy Watkins instead of poking fun at me, then kissing me out of nowhere, catching me off-guard.
I hate this kiss. I hate him.
Most of all, I hate how much I suddenly want him…
No.
No.
He thinks he has me trapped. Fuck, no. I might lose a few strands of hair, but I yank my head out of his hold as I thrust downward, breaking his grip on me.
Then, because I can’t believe he had the nerve to kiss me for no reason…
he had the balls to remind me that I’m fated to be alone since my supposed Owed doesn’t want me…
I allow the rage I keep tamped down inside of me to rear its ugly head.
Before I can think better of what I’m about to do, I grab Connor’s left wrist, yank his arm up to my mouth, and sink my teeth into his inner forearm.
Even more amazingly, he lets me.
I don’t break skin. It’s probably close, but all I taste is a hint of salt on his skin and something chemical that’s probably the cologne that always makes him smell so delicious. No blood, and when I finally release his arm, we both stare at the perfect imprint of my teeth left in his skin.
He blinks, stunned, while my chest heaves.
“You bit me!”
“So? You kissed me!”
Crazy fucker smiles. “You liked it.”
I shake my head again, fiercer this time, my hair almost slapping me in the face with the force of the denial.
His eyes flash daringly. “Admit it, moonbeam. You like me.”
Moonbeam now? Ugh. “I fucking hate you, Connor Heyward.”
“Yeah? Well, you better get used to me. My last name, too, baby, because one day it’s going to be yours.”
I almost choke. “What?”
“That’s right, Haven. I’m done pretending. Adrian’s gone for what he wants. It’s my turn. And in two months, I’m going to Claim you as mine.”
Haven. I can count the number of times he’s called me by my first name and not some ridiculous nickname on one hand. So why… why the change now?
Because he thinks that a single kiss means that he can Claim me as his Offering since we’ve established that Adrian probably won’t?
Okay. He’s not just crazy. He’s insane. “I only bit you. You sure someone didn’t smack you on your head before you came out here? What about your drink? How many have you had?”
“Not a single fucking one. I’m stone-cold sober, and I want you to know I’m yours.”
Yup. Absolutely bonkers. “I’m going home. When Loni’s done with Adrian, tell her to call me so I know everything’s okay.”
“As you wish.” He grins, rubbing his thumb over the visible bite mark on his forearm. “You want me to walk you to your car?”
“No!”
“Suit yourself. I actually have something I’ve got to take care of anyway. But, Haven…” Haven again, I notice with an increase to the beat of my heart. “I’ll be seeing you later.”
Yeah fucking right.
The patio door is still open. I march past Connor, basically waiting for him to grab me again. I guess the bite served as enough of a warning because he lets me pass while cradling his arm, marveling at the mark on his skin.
I meant it before. Being kissed by Connor Heyward rattled me enough that I… I can’t stay here. I tried, for Loni’s sake, but she’s seventeen, almost eighteen. She’s a big girl, and while I hope she knows what she’s doing, I’m beginning to think that neither of us do.
And that’s why, instead of marching through the big house until I reach the front where I can go and find my parked car, I take a sharp turn left after slamming the sliding door closed behind me.
Sue me. I’m curious. I want to know what Connor is doing, and since he didn’t follow on my heels, it has to be outside.
Lindy Watkins is still out there in her skimpy bikini, and even if I hate Connor, there’s a part of me that would hate him kissing me, then going right over to Lindy for a piece of non-Offering ass even more.
The patio leads into the massive kitchen. I move until I reach the window over the sink, allowing me to peer outside.
I see the pool. I pick out Lindy’s pretty blonde hair, surprised when Connor’s darker head isn’t anywhere near her. In fact, I don’t see him at all… at least, until I lean a bit, finding an angle that has me pressing my cheek against the window glass, and find him still standing on the patio.
He’s holding something in his hand. At first, I can’t tell what it is, but then he moves just enough that the porch light reflects off of what has to be metal.
I gasp.
It’s a knife. Connor’s trademark pocketknife, the same one he carries with him everywhere, absently tossing the folded-up version when we’re supposed to be working on an English assignment or something.
The teachers at Harmony Heights High gave up on trying to get him to keep his weapon at home, and as long as it’s folded, they pretend it’s anything other than a three-inch-long blade.
It’s not folded now. Oh, no. It’s open as he…
Holy shit.
Is he digging the point of the knife into his skin? Because, I swear to God, it looks like he’s cutting himself on the same arm where I bit him. Like he hates the feel of my mouth on his skin so much, he’s slicing it off.
I jump away from the window before he peeks up and notices that I’m spying on him. Then, my mouth dry and my body shaky, I push past\\\\\ everyone standing between me and the exit.
I’m going home, and I only hope that, once there, I can forget the sight of Connor with the knife in his hand as well as the taste of him lingering on my tongue.
And I don’t just mean the salty tang of his skin and the cologne that was there when I bit him…