My darkness pulses in agreement, drawing a soft groan from the powerful Council member who stays on his knees before me—for me.
I’m almost certain he can stand, if he wanted to, and the fact he doesn’t is invigorating.
My fingers drift along the edges of his face, feather-light, brushing over the dark and grey stubble at his jaw while his mismatched eyes stay tethered to mine.
Everything about him is a beautiful contrast.
“Tell me you understand,” I order softly, my hand anchored to him.
He turns his face into my hand, lips brushing my palm as he looks up at me—one eye pitch black, the other a stormy silver.
“I understand, ana mea,” he murmurs, his breath warm against my skin, his lips lingering there.
The sensation from that single touch races through me. I thought I was in control, but when he begins to rise, my hand falling, tendrils dissolving like black cobwebs, I realise it was him who allowed this.
All of it.
He once told me there was power in submitting. Now I’m starting to see that.
“I’ll come back.”
My mouth parts to argue—Julien needs him, I know it—but the words die in my throat when Ezekial’s hand cups my face.
His thumb presses gently but firmly against my mouth, closing my lips.
“I know you can protect yourself. I was never doubting your strength.” His voice lowers, and the pad of his thumb brushes against my lips in a lingering caress.
The touch unravels me, and as I lean into it, his eyes never stray from mine when he adds, “I was only ever doubting my own.”
I should pull away. I know I should.
Especially when his other hand trails down the curve of my spine, fingers coming to rest on my hip in a warm, solid grip that sends sparks through me.
“You know we’re not equal.” My brows furrow, but not for long. He closes the small space between us, guiding my chin up with gentle pressure as he lowers his face.
His gaze searches mine, sweeping between my eyes. “You are so much more.”
The lights in the foyer flicker. A tremor runs through the air.
My coils rush out of me, instinctive and desperate, wrapping around him, clinging to his body. But shadows stretch towards us, curling like greedy fingers to take him away.
“I’ll come back,” he murmurs, skimming my mouth once more with his thumb… then he melts away into the shadows.
I blink until the colours settle back, then head straight into the apartment. Without hesitation, I scoop up the bag waiting for me behind the door and clutch it to my chest.
I’m unsteady, restless, but as I draw out the cool fabric and press it close, the ground steadies beneath me.
Now, I’m wearing it and nothing else.
It smells like Kane. More than that, it feels like him, as though his darkness is stitched into every thread, his cool calmness spilling over my bare skin.
I bury my nose into the chest fabric, inhaling deeply, before letting it fall down to my knees.
I would die of embarrassment if they saw me like this, or I’d most likely try to murder them… but here, in this room, behind my four walls—I’ll allow it. I’ll pretend this means nothing.
It’s just a piece of fabric I liked the look of.
That he gave me.
