He tisked. “Feet braced. Shoulders strong,” he cooed, and made me obey. Keeping the deadly end trained directly on his face. “Now take a deep breath,” he said, the flames of his wrath igniting behind my ribs when I sucked a breath between my teeth. Feeding him exactly what he craved so badly.
My fear.
“A-Asher, please,” I whispered, still backing away no matter the control he kept over my hands.
“I think it’s time for another lesson,” he said, prowling ever closer. Hips rolling, filth soaking his pants well beyond his ankles. “Pull the trigger,” he barked.
It was a command I could not disobey. My forearms bunching with the sheer weight of the energy he forced through my muscle, fingers locked tight enough to bruise where they were held at the trigger.
Nothing happened.
Nothing but the thrum of wicked laughter echoed by the men who’d stopped everything to watch the uneven standoff unfold.
“You’re missing a few key pieces of that weapon, pet,” he drawled, smirking as Marco lifted his left wrist to display a cuff that matched the color of the weapon now trembling in my grip. “It won’t fire for anyone but the owner.”
A hitching breath crackled into my lungs as he closed the distance between us at last, putting us all but chest to chest, except for the muzzle of the weapon still held aloft.
I pulled the trigger again. “Bang,” I whispered, making a promise only he might hear.
Head thrown back, he laughed. A bark of true amusement that died between the flash of white teeth, but continued to sparkle in those inky, gleaming eyes. “Fire and fury, Mila.”
Cheeks flushed hot, I was helpless but to watch as he plucked the weapon from my fingers and tossed it back to Marco. Issuing a scathing, “Can I trust you to handle it from here, or shall I have my priestess take over for you?” over his shoulder.
Marco rubbed the back of his neck, cheeks pink as mine felt. “I should be able to manage without any more distractions from the lady wildcat, sir.”
“Good,” the captain said, and set rough, needy hands on my skin. Driving me from the mud thick with dancing elite energy back to solid ground. “You and I need to have a little chat,” he said, lips pressed to my ear. The rasp of beard stubble making me cower away from heated breath, the hazy threat of a male pressing too close.
I didn’t bother to fight him. Couldn’t bring myself to spend the energy it would take to make myself heard. I merely walked where he guided, too depleted to do much else.
It wasn’t until he sat me in the front seat of Marco’s coach that I could bring myself to speak. “The rebels will fight another day.”
He hummed, distracted and careless. “That’s war, pet.” Shifting the vehicle into gear, we glided away from the headquarters building at a much more reasonable pace with the captain behind the wheel. “But the end to this conflict has already been written.”
I swallowed the lump lodged at the back of my throat, my eyes flicking left.
He was watching me. A coy smirk promising wicked things I hadn’t the stomach to endure after everything that had come before. But no matter the swarm of chaos bubbling in my stomach, I couldn’t look away as he navigated through the quiet streets. Careful and precise, his every movement filled with purpose. Intention. Left hand cocked to the left of the wheel, doing the work of steering while the right lay braced on the armrest between us. Fourth finger picking at his thumbnail as if anxious for what came next.
“So what’s my big punishment?” I asked, quiet in the gloomy silence. “Or are you waiting until we’re alone?” Lip curled, I sneered, arms crossed beneath my breasts to cover the shiver of nerves I couldn’t quite repress. “Afraid to let anyone see what you actually are?”
He glanced at me, brow cocked. “You’d rather I fuck you before an audience? Because that can certainly be arranged.” He laughed, low and bitter. Knuckles going white around the wheel. “I’ve got nothing but time, after all. Now that I’m off duty. Who knows? Maybe I can distract Tilcot’s interest in you by turning you into my personal whore. We can perform nightly shows for the men under the guise of boosting morale. Maybe then he’ll only want a turn, instead of plotting how he might take you for himself in the name of the empire. I’m sure he’s penning a letter to the Capitol even now, citing your blatant disobedience as just cause.”
He threw the vehicle into park. Exiting without a word, he disappeared from sight only to pop up at my door, wrenching it open hard enough to make the hinges squeal a mechanical protest.
“What’s the difference?” I asked, and took his hand without complaint. Jaw tight, shoulders bunched with tension as he herded me up the steps of his stolen residence. “You both mean to use me to kill, and so I hate you both equally.”
The captain snorted and plunged us into darkness with thesnickof the front door clicking shut. “And what exactly can you do to stop it, priestess?” he hummed, looming over my shoulder, at my back, where his words could be felt against my jaw.
I flinched, but to this, I had nothing to say. Not yet.
Marching me past the hall-stand, he slipped his hands around my ribs and lifted me without another word.
I gasped, ready to fight until I heard the distinct crunch of broken glass and plaster beneath his boots. My bare feet touching down on the hardwood clear of slicing danger—feet that paced beyond the small kitchen, up the stairs, down the hall, and into his personal quarters.
“Stay,” he snapped when I stood outside of his private bathroom. Disappearing to the sound of running water splashing in a basin.
Unable to so much as fidget, I turned my focus instead to the uncomfortable hum living in my wrists and throat. Watching the subtle glow illuminating my veins with a new perspective. One that whispered of dangers I couldn’t see lurking inside.
An empath.
