“Brilliant bluff,” he says finally, voice low. “Almostbelievable.”
I arch a brow. “Almost?”
“Almost.” He leans in slightly. “You don’t have anyone coming for you, do you, Ember?”
I meet his gaze head-on, even though my heart is thundering in my chest. Crap, he’ssoonto me. Maybe I’m a bit rusty. “Maybe. Maybe not,” I argue, trying to ignore the way my voice wavers.
“Don’tlie to me,” he says, voice low and stern.
“Then stop asking questions you already know the answers to.”
His jaw tics. “You think this is a game?”
“No,” I say, leaning forward. “I think it’ssurvival. You want to make my life hell?Fine. But don’t think I won’t make sure you regret every second of it.”
Something flashes in his eyes—amusement, anger, hunger. I can’t tell which. He steps closer. “Careful.”
“Why?”
“Because if you keep talking like that…”
“What?” I whisper.
His hand slams down on the table beside me, and I flinch before I can stop myself. He doesn’t miss it. He leans in, voice dropping to a quiet growl. “You’ll make me forget who’s in charge here.”
I should be scared. I know I should be. But my pulse is hammering for an entirely different reason, a reason I don’t even want to acknowledge.
He’s close enough that I can see the pale ring around his irises, the shadow of stubble along his jaw. He smells like clean steel and something faintly smoky, the kind of scent that shouldn’t make me dizzy but does.
I open my mouth to say something cutting—something that will save me from this—but he moves faster. His hand slides tothe back of my neck. The kiss hits like impact—rough, desperate, claiming.
It’s not tenderness, it’s punishment—forbothof us.
I gasp, caught between resisting and leaning into it. My hands grip the edge of the chair to stop from reaching for him. The world tilts. His mouth moves against mine once, twice, before he tears himself away like it burned.
The silence that follows is violent.
He steps back, breathing hard, eyes wide with something dangerously human. “Fuck,” he mutters, dragging a hand through his hair. “Fuck, Rook you bloody idiot.”
I stay frozen, lips still tingling, every thought in my head scattering like sparks. He looks at me, and for a heartbeat, I think he’s going to say something—apologize, threaten, anything. But he just exhales through his nose, slow and furious.
“I told Wraith to keep his distance,” he says. “Should’ve listened to myself.”
Then he’s gone—out the door, the echo of his footsteps following him down the hall.
I sit there, heart still pounding, fingers pressed to my mouth. Shock, confusion, heat—none of it makes sense.
He kissed me like he wanted to ruin something, and maybe he did.
Because I can’t stop thinking about the way it felt.
The weight of it, or the heavy truth in it.
And as much as I hate to admit it, part of me wantsmore.
Not just from him… From all of them.
Every glance, every threat, every forbidden touch—it’s twisting into something I don’t recognize. Something I can’t control.
