Lana frowns and stuffs a bobby pin back into her luscious hair, one wavy strand curling at the base of her throat.
The exact spot I kissed her that night at the club a week ago.
My fingers twitch as I relive the memories. The needy sounds she made. Her pussy grinding against me. How I bet if I slid my fingers underneath that tiny scrap of underwear, she would be soaked.
I could barely stop myself from coming in my pants like a reckless boy.
Like Kian.
Lana mutters something, moves to the shelf on the right, and pulls down the dark-red volume I knew she’d choose.
Greek myths.Hades and Persephone. I have to admire the irony that her favorite story mirrors her real life.
Married to the man she hates, someone with a soul darker than the king of the underworld.
Sometimes I tell myself I’m protecting her. The truth is, I just can’t stop watching.
I used to tell myself I hated her, that I kept her at arm’s length because of the role she played in my family’s deaths.
The reason tastes bitter and shallow.
Now…I just keep her.
My chest pinches and I sit up, waiting for her to find the surprise tucked within those pages. It’s a risk. One that might give me away. But I want to know. After all, Christmas is in a week and a half.
It’s her favorite holiday.
Did Kian leave a permanent imprint on her mind the way Elise did on mine?
Will she finally solve the puzzles I’ve left for her over the years?
Her lips tip into a smile as she thumbs the leather volume. I’ve memorized every line.
When the Dark Learned Her Name.
My mind slips into another fragment of the past.
Thump. Thump. Thump.
Dad’s hammering in the hallway again, the sounds giving me a migraine, but Elise doesn’t seem to care.
Ding dong.
Dad freezes at the doorbell. He and Mom exchange worried glances.
“Everything okay?” Elise asks. “Are you guys expecting someone?”
I scoff. “We never get visitors. In fact, my parents forbid it…except you.”
“Really?”
“Yeah. I mean, I told them you were my tutor. They figured out I was lying, but it was worth it.” Grinning, I cup her cheek.
“Is that why they have those rules?” Her brows furrow, obviously as confused as I was. I’ve stopped trying to figure out my parents.
“Yep. ‘Don’t bring strangers to our door. Don’t open the door for strangers. Be careful because there are bad people in the world.’” An exasperated sigh heaves out of me. “They’re paranoid. Who knows, maybe we owe money to loan sharks or something. But yeah, better safe than sorry.”
The hammering resumes.
