Eli folded his arms over his chest. “So, you don’t believe it’s true?”
Fuck, did he? A preordained bond might be the only thing that could help explain the intense, almost magnetic pull Phaedra had on him. How else could he reconcile his visceral attraction to her, even when he’d been convinced she was the enemy?
Deep down, he had to admit the feelings that were taking root in him, while uninvited, were getting stronger, harder to resist, the longer he was near Phaedra.
If their connection was real—if it was some kind of bond destined to bring them together—what would it mean when she returned home tomorrow?
It would mean he’d dodged one hell of a bullet. Phaedra leaving for Rome was the best thing that could happen to him. Soul bond or not, he needed to put a lot of distance between her and all of the troubling cravings he had where she was concerned.
The desire that had almost won out over his discipline in the corridor with her tonight only drove home that point with razor-sharp clarity.
The sooner she could be gone, the better.
He shook his head and bit off a curse. “Are we going to finish this game or what?”
Wisely, his friends gave up busting his balls and took their banter back to the billiard table. Once Micah had control of the shots again, the game was over in a couple of minutes.
Eli came over and clapped Micah on the shoulder. “You know I’d never go after a woman you cared about, right?”
Yeah, he knew that. None of these males would ever cross the line on their brethren.
And while the denial that he cared about Phaedra stayed glued to the roof of Micah’s mouth, he gave his fellow warrior a friendly flash of his fangs. “Keep on dreaming that I’d even give you a second’s chance to try.”
Eli laughed. “Arrogant prick.”
“Asshole,” Micah said, chuckling along with him.
Jax walked over to them. “I’m heading downstairs to look for a bite. You guys coming?”
Eli nodded. “Hell yes, I’m in.”
“Me too,” Darion said, then looked at Micah for a response.
Hunger gnawed at him. He’d come to Slake hoping to take the edge off his body’s need for more healing red cells, but the thought of going downstairs to select a blood Host from the club’s roster of willing and multi-skilled service workers had grown less appealing since they’d arrived in the suite.
He didn’t have to wonder if his change of heart—or change of appetite, as it were—had something to do with the temptation of the gorgeous brunette Atlantean who’d been doing her damnedest to ignore him for the past hour.
“I’m good,” he murmured. “Maybe I’ll catch up with you later.”
As the three unmated males left the suite, he felt Nathan’s cool stare on him.
“You gonna get on my dick about Phaedra now, too?”
“Not at all.” The former Hunter practically vibrated with seriousness. He looked across the long suite to the living area where the two women had been talking nonstop, the bonds of a deep friendship already formed between them. “She’s exquisite, isn’t she?”
Micah could hardly deny it. “She’s beyond that. I’ve never seen a more beautiful woman in my life. But Phaedra’s not just gorgeous. She’s good, Nathan. She’s just so gentle, so kind. I didn’t want to believe it after what happened in the Deadlands, but it seems like I’m the only one trying to prove otherwise. Anyway, fuck me. It doesn’t matter. She’s going back to Rome tomorrow with Zael and Brynne. That’s for the best.”
He waited for the cool warrior to agree or to offer some other sage advice, but Nathan stayed silent, unreadable. Then the ghost of a smile edged his mouth.
“Did I say something funny?”
“No, you didn’t.” Nathan slowly shook his head, his smile growing broader now. “But I was actually talking about Jordana.”
“Shit.” Micah raked a hand over his head. “You bastard.”
Nathan’s answering chortle abruptly cut off when the comm unit clipped to his black vest buzzed with an incoming message.
Micah’s went off at the same time.
