The tension in his jaw dimples for a beat. Then, “I have read that book many times over. I would deem nothing in it to be off limits to you.”
I grab the thick book, the one too big to fit into my bag, then push back from the table. “You and me both.”
I make it a step before his hand shoots out for my bicep—and he halts me in place.
His grip is firm, fingers like rope coiled around my muscle.
The gleam of his eyes hooks me. “Why would your father punish you for it?”
“It wasn’t about the company that day. I’m just not allowed books like that.”
“Books like what?” he enunciates each word, slow and deliberate, like I’m the problem here.
I fight the urge to roll my eyes. “Deadblood books.”
His dark eyebrows knit. “Why would you not be allowed that reading material, Olivia?”
My lips part—and I pause.
The answer sits on my tongue, motionless.
Then, slowly, I lower my lashes and narrow my stare on him.
Dray’s grip tightens.
The blood will soon be cut off from the rest of my arm if I don’t give him what he wants.
An answer.
But that’s the thing.
That’s what I stumble on.
Hewantsthe answer.
I might not have found a way to leverage my knowledge yet, but here is another right in front of me.
Leverage.
“What’s the matter?” I tilt my head. “Can’t figure it out on your own?”
Famous last words.
The book hits the ground with a loud thud, the bag strap slips from my loose grip, and the nook of the library is a whirl of shelves and books all around me—
Before I’m shoved onto the edge of the table.
Dray’s hand abandons my arm for my jaw, and he pins me in place, that hollowness aimed down at me.
“You touch fire every day, and every day you cry that it burned you.” The warmth and mint of his breath tickles my lips. “When will you learn, Olivia?”
“Itouch fire?” My words come out strained, the pressure of his fingers too tight on my jaw. “If you’re the fire, then the flames chase me.”
The tip of his nose ghosts over mine. “You could have saved yourself half the trouble you got into, if you just minded your place and tongue.”
My cheeks are roaring with the hot rage lashing through me. It reaches my stare, the wildness in my eyes, the savagery that I’m sure he reads as easily as words on a page.
I want to kill you.
