ESCAPING FATE
“Don’t I?”
That had been his question. One that now hung between us, heavy with implication.
Ownership over me?
I could barely form words, let alone answer, which was why, for a moment, I didn’t. Not because I didn’t have something to say, but because my brain was still trying to catch up with the sheer arrogance of what he had just implied.
His hand was still holding my chin. His long fingers were firm beneath my jaw as though he hadn’t even considered the possibility that I might pull away. Up close like this, he felt…overwhelming.And in a way that had nothing to do with physical strength and everything to do with the quiet certainty radiating from him. Oblivion carried power the way other men carried confidence. Effortlessly and without needing to prove it. The problem was that standing this close to it made it very difficult to pretend I didn’t feel the weight of it.
My pulse kicked harder, and not entirely out of anger.
Which was totally inconvenient!
Because if I were being honest with myself, there was a small, treacherous part of my brain that had latched onto what he’d said. And in a way I absolutely should not approve of.
The idea of someone like him claiming authority over me should have been horrifying.
Offending… utterly insulting!
The kind of thing that made every sensible instinct scream at me to run in the opposite direction.
However, instead, it had sent a strange, electric tension curling through my chest. Something that was completely unacceptable. So, I forced the thought down immediately. Pushing back against the warmth creeping up the back of my neck and focusing instead on the much more reasonable irritation rising to replace it.
I narrowed my eyes up at him.
“No,” I said, the word quiet but firm enough that it cut cleanly through the silence between us. His brow lifted just a fraction, as if in challenge.
“You absolutely do not,” I reaffirmed, and for a second, neither of us moved. His thumb shifted faintly against my jaw, the motion deliberately slow. As though he were considering something about my answer rather than reacting to it. The touch sent another traitorous ripple of awareness down my spine, and I had to fight the instinct to lean away from it.
Or worse…lean into it.
“You are in my realm now, little Inanna,” he said calmly after a moment. His voice carried that same maddening certainty it always seemed to have.
“Speaking about matters that concern my kind.”
I frowned at that.
“And that means you get to decide who I associate with?” I shot back, folding my arms the moment his hand finally released my chin.
“Yes.” The answer came without hesitation, and that alone was enough to reignite my temper. Because apparently, the terrifying supernatural ruler of a demon nightclub also happened to believe he could dictate my friendships. Like some kind of infernal social committee.
“That’s convenient,” I muttered, more sharply this time, and the faintest flicker of amusement touched his expression.
“I fail to see how,” was his infuriatingly smooth response.
“Oh, I don’t know,” I said, letting the sarcasm creep back into my voice as I gestured vaguely toward the rest of the club behind him.
“Maybe because from where I’m standing, it kind of looks like you’re the one who tried to trap him.” His expression cooled immediately. The faint curve of his mouth vanished as the heavy accusation hung between us.
“He should never have been here,” he stated firmly, making me shake my head and argue,
“He wasn’t hurting anyone.”
“He was manipulating you.” My head snapped up, the frustration I had been holding back since the club finally bubbling over.
“Oh, please, Bo is harmless. You, on the other hand, kidnapped me!” I shot back, and his jaw tightened.
