“Patience,” Rowan murmured against my wrist, his voice suddenly changing to a honey-sweet tone I’ve never heard from him. Like he was saying, “Keep pushing and see what happens.”
I struggled with how to respond, being unfamiliar with hearing such a tender tone from him.
Then Rowan had to open his mouth and say, “We should save the foreplay for when we are inside,volchok.”
It was like he knew we were about to step into a sex club filled with potential predators. My patience was shot.
Also,volchok?What did that even mean?
“I simply couldn’t wait,” I replied sweetly. “Don’t you want to wait back home for me?”
I snatched my hand away and immediately regretted it. Rowan’s eyes glanced down at my fingers fidgeting with my purse—a terrible habit when I felt overwhelmed that I had picked up from my mother.
“Not a chance,” he said in a doting tone.
But his eyes told a different story. They were brimming with a cold, glacier-blue fury. Anger lurked beneath his manufactured tenderness. Rowan simmered with the kind of quiet rage that promised retribution. I’d grown familiar with his different levels of animosity over years of pushing his buttons, testing boundaries, and finding the exact pressure points that made him crack.
Shit, he’s really mad. Outraged, even.
Romeo’s assessing gaze never left us. “You are allowed one guest to accompany you. Is he your partner?”
“No,” I said, over Rowan’s, “Yes.”
Romeo merely raised a brow and waited.
I raised a finger, “Can you just. . . give us one moment, please?” I asked before turning to face Rowan. We took a few steps away from the bouncer in the doorway before I hissed, “Are youseriousright now?”
“Da.” He confirmed as he took one assessing look at my hair, my face, and my outfit. I swear I saw his pupils dilate before he said, “You will take me inside of this place with you, else I will spank your ass all the way back home to your daddy.”
Don’t tempt me, I nearly said, but refrained. Probably not the best time, especially since all I wanted to do was strangle him. I massaged the bridge of my nose before I whispered, “Fine. But let me be clear that you arenotwelcome here.”
Rowan’s shit-eating grin did little to stop the anxiety pooling in my stomach as he took my arm into his.
Perfect. Fucking perfect. My plan’s going great.
We both looked at Romeo. Knowing my first impression had been shot to hell, I sighed and said, “Yeah. He’s my plus one.”
Romeo frowned, but turned to grip the iron handle as he said, “Very well.” The click of the sleek doorknob resonated in the night. “In that case. . . welcome to Oubliette.”
The door swung open, welcoming us in, and my nostrils flared at the potent cocktail that assaulted them; rich dark leather mingling with notes of sandalwood. Beneath it all lurked a scent both primal and dangerous, a musk that whispered sin against my skin. The interior of Oubliette gleamed in obsidian perfection, every polished black surface catching fragments of the subdued lighting, scattering it across the room like leaves in the wind.
We followed Romeo through the press of bodies. Shadows danced along the walls, alive with purpose as they cloaked figures who lingered in corners. The bass vibrated through the soles of my feet, a heartbeat pulsing through the floor and into my bones. On stage, dancers twisted around poles, occasionally tossing their scraps of clothing into the crowd like confetti. Their diamond-studded clothing caught the spotlight, flesh on display for the hungry stares that followed every calculated movement.
I swallowed and tried to still my thundering heart. This place—and Oubliettes like it—haunted my nightmares, filled my thoughts with terror, and now I stood inside its gleaming black walls. . . with Rowan.
Deep breaths. Deep breaths,I chanted to myself.As soon as we get to the bar and manage a sliver of privacy, I’m going to force him to tell me why he is here.
Rowan followed close behind me, his body radiating heat like a furnace. His hand found mine and he squeezed. I looked down, a frown creasing my face and asked, “What are you doing?”
“I am claiming ownership,” he stated. He said it simply, as if his mere presence was enough to send a silent warning to every potential predator in the room.
I whispered, “I don’t need your help.” I tried to pull my hand away, but he held on. “And I’mnotyours to claim ownership of.” I didn’t need his alpha male bullshit in that moment.
A well-dressed drunken man laughed as he nearly stumbled into me. The idiot would have bowled me over had Rowan not pulled me out of the way and held me against his chest. The contact electrified my skin as the scent of pine and smoke wrapped around me.Oh my god, why does he smell so good?
Romeo’s apology was muffled behind me. The sounds of his receding steps led me to believe he went to assist the drunken patron. I tried to steady my racing heart. “Rowan? You can let me go now.”
He made a sound of disgust and released me, his hand still clutched in mine. “Stupid drunk.” He assessed me. “Are you alright?”
