Chapter 29
Rule twenty-nine:Do not slay the party guests.
We land on the outskirts of the party,and my heart just about jumps into my throat when I take it all in.
There are a lot of people here.
At least a few hundred individuals mill about the field, most with drinks in hand or small plates of food. The buffet tables overflow with food and beverages, and a band is set up in one corner of the field. A haunting melody echoes over to us, only slightly audible over the sounds of all the voices. No one has noticed us yet, and I’m grateful as I take a moment to remember how to breathe.
Sin’s hand rests on my lower back, but I don’t let myself lean into him for support. His fingers trace small shapes over my exposed skin, and I try to ignore the goosebumps that trail along the wake of his touch.
“You need to stop doing that,” I warn.
Sin only arches an eyebrow, letting his hand trail up my spine. “Doing what?”
I stiffen. “Pretending to be into me, so I’ll go along with your plans.”
There, I’ve said it. The blatant truth that is so obvious I feel like an idiot for not realizing it sooner. I’m too gullible, and the thought that I’ve just jumped into the arms of a new puppet master makes me want to throw up.
Sin is looking at me like I’ve lost my mind.
The party is still oblivious to us, and I try to make a graceful escape from this conversation. But Sin finds my arm first, spinning me to face him.
Oh fuck.
His tattoos are faintly glowing.
He glares down at me, taking a deep inhale before starting, “If I wanted to deceive you into going along with our plans, I could control your mind. So easily that you’d be begging for ways to help us.”
I frown, suppressing a shudder. “But you –”
“I. Fucking. Want. You.” His gaze burns into mine, and he says the words slowly, emphasizing each syllable before continuing, “Every time you talk back to me, all I can think about is you gagging on my cock, to shut you up. Every time we’re in the same room, I want to bury myself so fucking deep inside of you that you’ll feel me for days afterwards. I wanted you when I thought you were a Council whore. And now that I know you aren’t, it’s bordering on fucking obsession. The thought of someone else touching you makes me see red. I want you, and it’s driving me to madness.”
The rest of the world fades away, and I gape at him, trying to remember how to speak.
Sin wants me.
I flush, squeezing my thighs together. He notices and takes another sharp inhale, his eyes heating.
“It’s a bad idea,” I note, swallowing. “With the prophecy and everything else going on.”
I want to fuck his brains out.
I want his hands all over me.
“I couldn’t fucking stop even when I thought you were a Fates-damned Council spy who was pining over that piece of shit, Leon. Believe me, kitten, I tried,” he says, glaring at me.
My brow furrows, trying to think of what Sin did when we first met. “You left.”
“Yes. And it didn’t work. All I could think about was whether you’d fall out of your fucking window again,” he bites back.
I open my mouth to argue that I didn’t fall, but he continues, “And when I got back, only to find Damien’s hands on you, I almost lost it. And then again, when he and Magnus were healing you. At that moment, I considered killing some of the few people I trust. I have tried to hate you, to make you hate me. Anything to stop this.”
The anger that laces his words does nothing to stop the fluttering sensation in my chest or the erratic beat of my pulse.
“So where does that leave us?” I ask, swallowing back my panic at the thought that protecting my heart from this man just got significantly more difficult.
Sin grips the nape of my neck, gently pulling me towards him. “I’ve tried fighting it, kitten.” His eyes search mine as if looking for any hint that I might want him to pull away. “But I lost that battle. I’m done fighting against whatever this is. I want you, and from this moment forward, I’m fighting to make you scream you’re mine.”
