Chapter Three AURORA
Ishould have felt victorious. I should have felt smug. Triumphant. I should have enjoyed the tiny, ridiculous satisfaction of finally wiping that stupid amused look off his face.
Instead, something strange settled low in my stomach. Because one second ago we'd been playing games. Stupid games. Annoying games. Stranger-in-a-devil-mask-and-making-questionable-life-decisions games. And then the entire atmosphere around us shifted so quietly I almost missed it.
The club hadn't changed. Music still rolled through the room in slow waves, deep enough that I felt it in my ribs more than heard it.
Amber light still spilled across black marble and polished glass, catching on crystal bottles lined behind the bar like liquid gold.
Laughter still drifted through velvet shadows while bodies moved around us beneath hanging chains and dark silk and whispered secrets.
Everything looked exactly the same. But somehow it felt different.
Because he'd gone still. Not physically.
Physically he looked exactly as he had before.
One shoulder resting against the bar. Long legs crossed lazily at the ankle.
Tailored black suit fitting broad shoulders like it had been designed specifically for him.
Devil mask hiding half his face beneath warm gold light.
But his eyes... Something in his eyes had changed. Like I'd reached out blindly and brushed against something I wasn't supposed to touch. Like I'd knocked against a locked door and heard something breathing quietly on the other side.
Oops.
My stomach twisted unexpectedly. Not because I was scared.
Because I wasn't sure I liked seeing him look...
human. I looked down toward his wrist again.
The watch sat beneath the edge of his sleeve, silver catching soft light from overhead.
Expensive. Heavy. Too large. Too worn. Too loved.
And another realization slid into place.
He hadn't laughed. Hadn't smirked. Hadn't thrown some irritating comment back at me. He'd just looked at me.
"Oh no," I said quietly. I pointed vaguely between us. "I accidentally made this serious."
Silence. Then the corner of his mouth moved beneath the mask. Just barely. Relief hit me embarrassingly hard.
"There he is," I sighed dramatically. "For a second I thought you were having emotions."
He stared at me for another second. Then he laughed. Not loudly. Not the obnoxious, smug kind of laugh he'd been using all night whenever he thought I was being ridiculous. This one was quieter. Rougher.
Like something had caught him off guard and he hadn't managed to hide it fast enough. The sound curled through the space between us and disappeared beneath the slow pulse of music.
"Emotions," he repeated.
I nodded solemnly. "Very concerning behavior."
He shook his head once, still looking at me in that strange way. Like he was trying to figure something out and wasn't entirely pleased by whatever answer he was getting. Then he pushed away from the bar. Slowly. Like he was making himself do it.
"Well," he said, sliding his hands into his pockets, "you won."
I blinked. "What?"
"The bet."
Amber light shifted across the sharp line of his jaw beneath the mask while people moved around us in blurred shadows. Somewhere deeper inside the club, somebody laughed softly. Glass clinked. The bass beneath my heels rolled through the floor like a heartbeat.
"You guessed right." His voice was easy again now. Controlled. Calm. Like whatever strange thing had happened a few seconds ago had already disappeared behind that devil mask and stupid confidence. "Fair and square."
I narrowed my eyes. Suspicious. "That's it?"
One shoulder lifted. "That's it."
I stared harder. "No dramatic speech?"
"No,” he said firmly.
"No manipulation?" I hated myself for what I was saying.
"Nope."
"No weird devil bargain where I accidentally sign away my soul?" I questioned.
The corner of his mouth twitched. "No manipulative devil nonsense tonight."
I crossed my arms. Absolutely not. I didn't trust this.
Because men like him didn't just walk away.
Men like him pushed. Pressed. Stayed too close and smiled too much and kept talking until you forgot your own name.
But he was just standing there looking at me calmly, like he'd already decided something.
Then he gave me a small nod. "Enjoy your night, little troublemaker."
Little troublemaker again. Excuse me? Before I could argue, he turned.
And started walking away. For a second I only stared at his back.
My brain completely stopped functioning.
Because my first thought wasn't good. My first thought wasn't finally.
My first thought wasn't thank God the annoying psychopath is leaving me alone.
No. Unfortunately, my first thought was: Wait.
My eyebrows pulled together. I watched him disappear through the shifting crowd while people unconsciously moved aside for him. Men stepped back. Women looked up. Nobody touched him.
I noticed that. Not because they looked afraid. Because they looked like they already knew him. Like they knew exactly who he was beneath the mask. The realization brushed uneasily against my thoughts and disappeared just as quickly. Because something much more horrifying happened.
I didn't want him to go. The thought slammed into me so hard I almost physically recoiled. No. Absolutely not. Nope. I stared after him in horror.
Because I had known this man for approximately... what? Twenty-five minutes? And he was irritating. Annoying. Manipulative. Infuriatingly attractive. I watched him get farther away. Then farther.
"Oh my God," I muttered dramatically. I hated myself. Actually hated myself. "Hey!"
He kept walking. My eyes narrowed. "Oh, now you're ignoring me?"
He stopped. Slowly turned. Even from several feet away, I could practically feel the smugness radiating off him. Handsome bastard.
I walked toward him, heels clicking softly against black marble while heat slowly crept into my face. Because I genuinely had no idea what I was doing anymore. None. Absolutely none.
I stopped in front of him. Looked up. He looked down at me. Waiting. I lifted my chin. "You forgot something."
His head tilted. "I did?"
I stared at him for dramatic effect. Then smiled sweetly. "I think we need another bet."
Silence.
Then very slowly, his eyes darkened beneath the devil mask. Not in the way I expected. Not hunger. Not arrogance. Something more dangerous. Interest. Real interest. The kind that felt like stepping too close to a cliff edge and realizing the ground beneath your feet looked very far away.
He looked down at me for a long second while music rolled around us in slow waves. Shadows moved across the room behind him. Gold light caught against the black leather of his mask and slid across the sharp line of his jaw.
Around us, people kept talking. Kept laughing. Kept moving. I barely noticed any of it. Because I had become very aware of the fact that I had chased him down. Absolutely humiliating.
"Another bet," he repeated slowly.
I crossed my arms, mostly because I needed something to do with my hands. "Yes."
He stared. I stared back. Then one corner of his mouth moved beneath the mask. "Oh, this is interesting."
I narrowed my eyes. "Why are you saying it like that?"
"Because ten minutes ago you looked at me like I was a contagious disease,” he reminded me.
"I still don’t like you,” I reminded him.
"Mm." He took one lazy step closer. Not enough to crowd me. Just enough that I caught the scent of expensive cologne and something darker beneath it. Just enough that I noticed how unfairly tall he was. Just enough that I noticed I'd tilted my head upward slightly.
"And what exactly are we betting for this time, little troublemaker?" he asked quietly.
I opened my mouth. Closed it. Because my brain had chosen this exact moment to stop functioning. Because the truth was, I hadn't thought that far. I just hadn't wanted him to leave. And somehow that felt significantly more dangerous than any game we'd played tonight.
My brain, the same brain that had confidently escaped my bodyguard, accidentally wandered into a secret club for sinners, and chased down a man wearing a devil mask, had completely abandoned me.
He waited. Didn't help. Didn't say anything. Just stood there watching me with infuriating patience. Smug bastard.
"You don't have anything, do you?" Amusement slid into his voice.
"I do,” I insisted, my stubbornness taking over. I narrowed my eyes. Then, before common sense could tackle me to the floor and drag me away screaming, I lifted my chin.
"If you win..." I said slowly, "I’ll let you kiss me."
Silence. Absolute silence. Then his entire body went still.
Not the strange stillness from before. Not the one with shadows behind his eyes.
No. This was dramatic offense. He put a hand over his chest. Actually put a hand over his chest. His head snapped toward me like I'd personally insulted generations of his ancestors.
“You’ll let me kiss you?" he repeated.
I blinked. "...Yes?"
He stared in visible horror.
"Little troublemaker." He looked genuinely appalled. "What kind of scandalous woman have I met tonight?"
My mouth fell open. "Scandalous?!"
He looked around us dramatically.
"Did everyone hear that?" he asked the room. "I'm being preyed upon."
I gaped at him. Actually gaped. "You are unbelievable."
"No, no." He shook his head sadly. "I was raised with values."
Then I saw it. That tiny movement beneath the mask. The smile he was trying to hide. Oh, I was going to kill him.
"You are enjoying this entirely too much,” I reminded him.
"Immensely."
I crossed my arms. "You know what? Forget it."
"No."
My eyes narrowed. "No?"
"No." He tilted his head thoughtfully. "We're doing the bet."
I blinked. "...We are?"
"We are." Then he glanced around slowly before reaching toward me. Not grabbing. Not forcing. Just offering his hand. "Come on."
I looked down at it suspiciously. "...Where are we going?"