He still doesn’t touch me and I loosen my grip just marginally so he can submit to me.
But he puts a hand on my chest and he bites at my bottom lip, dragging it out, so quick I don’t have time to react.
He moans softly as he releases me with his teeth, my blood hot, and his eyes close a second before they pop back open again, staring right into mine.
“I like you like this,” he says softly. “Overprotective. Me and you? We can take good care of, huh, Captain?”
He says it like it’s my name and he looks up at me like he means it.
I clench my teeth, my mind spinning.
I shove him away by my hand on his throat but my eyes don’t leave his.
He lifts two fingers to his lips, tracing them, fixing his gaze on me as he does. “Tonight, if we win…” He takes a breath, his chest rising and falling. “I’m going with you to that castle. I saw you’re in the group chat too, with Tylone. If Cynthia is going, she’s going, and I know that means you’ll be there.You’re not the only one who can’t stay away from her.”
Absolutely fucking not. He’s not going. But I don’t waste my words saying that.
“Anything can happen to her in there. It’s dark, and it’s dangerous.” He isn’t smiling anymore.
“And if we lose?” I ask, and I’m surprised my voice sounds so raspy to my own ears, like I can barely get the words out.
He drops his hand and his eyes narrow. Silver chips of ice. “We won’t. Not if she’s on the line.”
FORTY-FOUR
FAUST
We’re up three nothing in the third period, and with our fans going crazy and the thought of Neve Devine somewhere up there in the arena, alongside the words Sylvan said to me and his lips so close to mine, playing feels like a sixth sense. As easy as lifting my arm or closing my eyes.
Until I slap the puck toward Ryles just as TMU’s offense, Bronson, smashes me into the boards.
I hear the excitement in the stands and I think we’re going to score and I want to fucking see it, so I shove Bronson away from me, but he shoves back, and his voice is too close to me when he sayshername.
“Is it Neve you want, or each other?”
The stadium erupts, the announcer says Connor’s name, and I know I should let it go because we’ve got a shutout no doubt, but all I can think about is Neve’s body on mine last night, and how she felt like someone I need to protect at all costs.
No doubt someone has seensomething,and rumors fly with lesser evidence. Considering how often Sylvan and my names swirl in this world, I’m not surprised at his taunts, but it doesn’t make the urge to murder him lessen.
I drop my stick, grab Bronson’s jersey, and slam him into the boards.
Red fills my vision as I hit him, his helmet popping off. He grunts in surprise, like he thought I’d just let that shit go, and I hear the commotion in the stands but it’s all white noise to me shaking off my glove and smashing this fucker’s face.
“Who told you about her?” I hit him between each word and he releases his stick only to grab me with his gloved hands and if he thinks he’s going to shake me off him, he’s fucking delusional.
I’ve got a grip on his yellow jersey, and I smash him again, pummeling every inch of his pale face I can get as I hear players rushing toward us.
Someone tries to yank me off but when I spare one glance back, I see Sylvan pulling a TMU forward away, his eyes on mine, his expression serious. He gives me a subtle nod, and the refs are blowing their whistles and I see those fucking black and white uniforms almost on me, but I don’t stop.
“Who fucking told you?”
Bronson’s bleeding, and I know I’m going to get ejected from this game but fuck it. It’s too late to stop now, and even if I could, I don’t want to.
I hit him again as someone drags at my elbow. Ref or player, I don’t know, and I don’t care.
“It was Tasia, you motherfucker,” Bronson gasps, blood streaming down his nose, his eyes wide.
I don’t usually start fights, even from chirping.
