Chapter 16
LYRA
Iweaved through the crowd, stumbling over my floor-length gown.
The silky fabric snagged, and I kicked my heel free from the tangled mess.
I bunched the material in my clammy hands, lifting the hem off the floor to keep others and myself from stepping on it.
I continued on, desperate to avoid awkward small talk with people whose names I couldn’t remember or didn’t care to know.
My stomach growled at the sight of a young girl stuffing a bacon-wrapped scallop into her mouth. Just then, a bulky-framed male knocked into me, but a steady grip on my elbow righted me.
“Careful,” Eli said, gruffly. Two nights in a row of dealing with his father had put him in a foul mood.
“It’s these damn heels,” I hissed. My sweat-slicked feet slammed forward, cramming my toes into the narrow points of my shoes. I shifted my weight from foot to foot, trying to alleviate some of the pressure, but it was all in vain. My toes were already numb.
A server whisked past, and Eli swiped two flutes of champagne from the silver platter.
“Thanks,” I said, reaching for one.
“Oh, these are both for me.” He tilted his head back, and his throat bobbed as he chugged the bubbly liquid.
“Way to keep it classy.”
Eli wiped his mouth on his sleeve and discarded the glasses on a crab cake platter.
“Hey, I don’t think those go—” I started, but Eli tugged on my arm, cutting me off.
He led the way toward the others gathered in the grand room, waiting for Mr. Whitethorn to give his speech full of empty promises and pretty lies.
Surprisingly, he didn’t stop. He continued past our friends, giving me the side-eye and urging me to pick up the pace.
I gave a polite smile to everyone we passed as he dragged me toward the back door.
Voices and noises faded into the background as the door shut behind us.
Eli fidgeted with his cigarettes, placing one between his lips, ready to light it the moment we stepped outside.
The crisp air kissed my skin as I checked my phone. I squinted as the bright light momentarily blinded me. The screen slowly came into focus, and the knot in my stomach grew tighter because there was nothing from Grey. Hopefully, he hadn’t run into any problems.
“This fucking blows,” Eli mumbled around his cigarette, not caring as ash fell onto his black suit.
“It’s not that bad.” I tried to sound convincing, but Eli’s frown told me he didn’t buy it.
“Kill me now and put me out of my fucking misery.”
I rolled my eyes at his over-dramatic response. Everything was the end of the world to him.
“What the hell are you doing out here?” Mr. Hale’s voice grated against my ears. “Of course, my son can’t be bothered to listen, much less do what he’s told.” His caramel eyes, the exact same color as Eli’s, blazed with anger. They were spitting images of one another, locked in a war of attrition.
Eli tensed beside me but ignored his father’s curt words, refusing to take the bait his father dangled in front of him. He simply stomped on his cigarette and stalked back inside. I kept close to his side, scurrying past Mr. Hale.
I checked my phone again as we approached Emory, Cal, and Kenna. Still, no new messages. I shot Grey a quick text, hoping for some sort of confirmation he’d found the book or at the very least that he was okay.
“Welcome.” Mr. Whitethorn’s voice boomed. The murmurs from the crowd died down, and everyone turned their attention toward the source of the greeting. I craned my neck, trying to get a glimpse of the hallway, but I was too short.
“Hello, fellow residents of Twisted Spires. I want to thank you all for coming. I’m Devin Whitethorn, and it’s an honor to be a part of this election.
Your support means so much to me and my family.
” He extended a hand toward Kenna, who stepped from our circle and made her way to her father.
“I believe this town has so much potential, and we can unleash it together. If I’m elected mayor, I plan to focus on you, the people of this town, because when you prosper, the town prospers. ”
Kenna’s lace gown perfectly matched her father’s navy suit.
Her straight blonde hair pooled around her shoulders, accentuating her striking features.
A dazzling smile lit up her entire face as lie after lie spilled from Mr. Whitethorn’s mouth, and by the looks of all the townsfolk, they believed every single word.
I fed into the deception by forcing a smile of my own as Mr. Whitethorn’s speech continued.
I risked another glance at my phone, and the sinking feeling in my gut returned. Something was wrong. Very wrong.
Everyone was so engrossed in the speech that they didn’t seem to notice as I slowly backed away, allowing myself to be swallowed by the masses.
I lingered near the back as servers and waitstaff zoomed by, heading to the kitchen.
I seized the small window of opportunity and sprinted down the hallway, praying no one noticed.
The doors to Mr. Whitethorn’s study were wide open, and Grey’s tall frame came into view as I stepped inside.
“What happened?” I asked, looking over my shoulder to make sure no one had followed me.
Grey didn’t say a word. Only narrowed his darkening eyes, full of rage and hatred.
“The blonde girl is Devin’s daughter?” Grey asked flatly.
I stopped a few paces from the desk. “What?” I nodded my head. “It wasn’t a secret. I told you I was coming to the Whitethorn’s for family dinner. You didn’t have a problem with it when you could use me to steal the book. Is that seriously the holdup?”
“No.” A muscle in his jaw twitched. “The desk is spelled.” His raspy voice echoed throughout the room.
My head whipped around, hoping no one heard his outburst.
My eyes traveled to his large hands on the desk right next to the spellbook. “How do you know the desk is spelled?”
He groaned. A frustrated, deep sound that would have had my toes curling if I could feel them. “Because I can’t move my fucking hands.”
I leaned in to get a better look.
“Don’t touch it,” Grey scolded like he wasn’t the one who’d fallen into the trap in the first place.
“Thanks for the helpful tip. Asshole.” I muttered the last word under my breath. “So how do we get you…unstuck?”
“It’ll likely only respond to Devin’s magic if he’s the one who spelled it. Look for something to cut my hands off.”
The color drained from my face. “Absolutely. Fucking. Not.”
“Don’t tell me you faint at the sight of blood?”
“No, but I definitely will if I have to cut your hands off.” I gagged.
“I’m just kidding. That’s the last resort. You got a lighter?”
“No,” I shook my head, “but I know where I can get one.”
“It’s fine. I’ve got one in my pocket.” He thrust his hip in my direction. “Front right.”
“Oh…” my eyes widened.
“Come on,” he urged. “Hurry up.”
The bottom of my dress caught on the edge of the hideous throw rug as I closed the little remaining distance. Stupid dress. Stupid shoes. Stupid Grey.
I stood behind him, snaking my hand into his front pocket. I held my breath, trying to make as little contact as possible while searching for the lighter. My fingers brushed against something huge, and I jerked my hand back.
A low rasp shook Grey’s chest. “Can’t fault a guy for finding you attractive.”
I was glad he couldn’t see my blush. I pulled the lighter from his pocket, but a small part of me wanted to confirm if he was really that big, but I took a step back before I could do anything stupid.
“All right, now what?” The flame flickered to life in my hand.
“Hold it over my hands.”
“I’m sorry…” I hesitated. “What?”
“Just do it,” he snapped. “Please,” he added a touch nicer. No doubt on edge at being trapped in this house again.
“Fine.” I bit out, moving the lighter above his hands. They were massive too. Was every part of him big? I shook my head, trying to clear the dirty thoughts from my mind.
Grey let out a low hiss as I swept the lighter over his left hand, and I swear his fingers flexed.
“It’s working. I think.” I squinted trying to get a better look. “Why is it working?” I asked, unable to look away from the tattoos. The head of a snake rested on the back of his hand, ready to strike a scorpion also inked there.
“The desk thinks the flame is Devin’s magic. Magic isn’t an exact science. There’s always room for interpretation. And if Devin spelled the desk, it wouldn’t be very powerful, anyway.” Grey didn’t miss the opportunity to insult Mr. Whitethorn.
His left hand moved, and before long, both were free.
The wooden floor creaked; someone was coming and fast. Acting on pure instinct, I crashed my lips against Grey’s. If he was startled by my sudden assault on his lips, he didn’t show it.
His lips were softer than I remembered, and I knew instantly I was in big trouble when his tongue tangled with mine.
My entire body buzzed with desire, and I clenched my thighs together tightly.
His hand tangled in my hair, and the other snaked up my back.
Everything else vanished from my mind, and all I could think of was him.
How his hands felt on my body and the taste of him in my mouth.
“Oh, dear.” I heard a gasp from the doorway as reality slammed back into place. I tried to pull away, but Grey tightened his grip on my neck and kissed me harder. An audible moan escaped my mouth, and he hungrily swallowed it like a starving man.
Holy shit, I was so turned on. I couldn’t keep my legs from shaking. My entire body was vibrating. Grey’s hair was slightly disheveled—the only indication he’d been involved in our little tussle.
I pried my eyes from the handsome demon to find Mrs. Abbot standing in the doorway, mouth agape.
“Mrs. Abbot.” Horror filled my voice as I tried to detangle my hair.
“I didn’t mean to interrupt. I just came up here to leave this.” She held an envelope in her hand and dropped it on the desk. “You might want to find a more private place.” She gave a coy smile and disappeared down the hall.
If a person could die from humiliation, I would’ve self-combusted.
Grey’s arms tightened around my waist. His chest pressed against my back.
“Let’s finish what we started.” Grey nipped at my ear. I squirmed, trying to wiggle free, my ass shifting against his growing desire.
“I love it when they struggle,” he mused, placing a hand around my neck and tightening it. His nails turned to claws as they slowly pricked at my skin. Not deep enough to leave marks but enough to make me stop squirming.
I was not attracted to dangerous men. I was not attracted to a demon. I was not attracted to Grey, but the wetness between my legs begged to differ.
Light, feathery kisses trailed over the exposed skin of my shoulder, and on instinct, I ground against him. Desperate to feel all of him.
“You see what you do to me, little witch?” His hips thrust forward. His considerable length pressed into my backside.
His free hand slid over the thin, silk fabric of my dress, finding the slit up the side. My breathing became erratic the farther up his hand traveled. If he went any higher, he would feel just how turned on I was.
As if reading my mind, Grey’s finger slipped under my thong, and I jolted at the sudden contact.
“Fuck, Lyra,” he growled.
Laughter erupted, and I lunged forward. There was still a house full of people right down the hall.
We’d been lucky it was Mrs. Abbot who caught us, and I didn’t think she’d mention what she’d witnessed.
She wasn’t one to gossip. But all it’d take was one slip of the tongue for Mr. Whitethorn to realize who took the book.
Grey brought his glistening finger to his mouth and sucked my desire clean from it. “You taste even better than I imagined.”
The heady feeling had the room swaying.
Grey swiped the lighter from my hand and held it over the book, careful not to catch it on fire. In one quick movement, he snatched it from the desk. A smile tugged at his lips, and something unfamiliar flashed in his eyes.
I needed to leave right now because if I stayed here any longer, I might do something extremely reckless.