“I’m going.” Rook tried to push past me, already dressed in the traditional gown with its sweeping sleeves and embroidered hem. “He won’t stop if he knows I’m here.”
My entire body ached with fire.
I’d lived my entire life having no one and now that I had her?
I wouldn’t share.
With anyone.
The old man flinched before glancing at Rook. “He’s very adamant about seeing you, Miss Rook. If you follow me, I’ll—”
“I said,she’s not going.” I planted my hand across the doorway, blocking her. Whisper stepped in front of her too—just as jealous as I was at the thought of another male going anywhere near her.
She wasours.
Pure inhumanfuryroared out of me.
Smoke escaped, fire surged, and—
A cooling hand landed on my shoulder as Rook shook her head, snuffed out my fire, and kept me calm enough not to set poor Uncle Wen alight.
“Lucien...listen to me. I told you. He’s like a brother to me. He won’t—”
“What’s his name?” I asked Uncle Wen, needing to know exactly who was after her before I lost complete control.
Uncle Wen side-eyed me as if afraid I’d fly into a jealous fit of rage. “Eh...he said his name is Dillon. Dillon Brooks.”
Uncle Wen was right to be worried.
Turned out, Iwouldfly into a jealous fit of rage.
Because hearing another man’s name associated in any capacity withmyRook?
He’s a dead man.
Chapter Fifty-Two
LUCIEN SHOVED PAST UNCLE WEN AND BROKE into a run.
Leaping down the two steps, he bolted around the central tree, flew over the lip of the circular exit, and vanished in the time it took me to suck in a breath.
Oh shit.
Dillon.
Dillon was here.
In Lucien’s domain.
Not good.
Not goodat all.
“Lucien!” I flew after him, wincing as the pavers bruised me. I was barefoot but at least I was dressed. However, each breezy stride kindly reminded me I wasn’t wearing underwear. “Lucien! Get back here!”
I ran as fast as I could, following his scent of burning cedar and smouldering amber. The tether around my heart tugged, leading me through the labyrinth of corridors.
I glanced at Whisper who appeared beside me, keeping pace with a lazy lope. “You’re as much of a nightmare as he is.”
