Now, she had to face reality. Face Reynner.
Unable to linger any longer, she left the room and made her way toward the kitchen farther down the corridor, concentrating on what she had to do. First, she’d apologize to him. She owed him that. And he had asked to speak to her, so she’d hear him out. Then she’d leave.
The aroma of coffee, baked biscuits, and something savory wafting in the air did little to tempt her appetite with her stomach in a tangle. But raised voices stopped her in her tracks.
“What do you mean you’ve done nothing yet?” Aerén demanded.
She couldn’t hear Reynner’s words, but his low tone resonated with impatience.
“I figured that out last night,” Aerén retorted. “Why didn’t you ask her?”
“Because I was too damn busy evading shitheads from Hell and trying to keep her alive!”
They were arguing over her. Eve pushed open the kitchen door, wanting to put an end to this disagreement. The air there was so thick with tension, she paused in the doorway, sure if she took another step she’d suffocate with the rising levels of testosterone in the room.
The heated discussion stopped, all eyes turning to her.
She was barely aware of Aerén and another man there. Reynner drew her gaze like a magnet. Shirtless and impossibly beautiful, he leaned against the counter, his expression grim. Loose, white drawstring pants sat low on his lean hips. One hand rested on the counter beside him, the other held a half-eaten apple.
His pale hair hung unbound, falling to his shoulders, a startling contrast to his tanned face. But when she met his gaze, the flatness there had her swallowing. He wasn't going to make it easy to apologize. Well, she’d have to get him alone and do it then.
Taking a deep breath, Eve looked away and clashed gazes with eyes like turquoise glaciers.
The tall man leaning against the edge of the table wore pants and a tunic similar to Aerén’s. Swathes of sable hair were drawn away from his cold, striking face and tied at the back of his head. His gaze drifted from the top of her damp hair to the tips of her toes.
Uneasy at the intensity of his perusal, she took a step back in sheer self-preservation. “I’ll come back—”
“No,” Reynner’s low voice stopped her. “It’s midday, and you’ve missed breakfast.”
Before she could open her mouth to tell him she wasn't hungry, Aerén leaped up and pulled out a chair. “Come, Eve. You didn’t eat much last night either.”
The warm smile on his face stopped her retreat, melting the ice forming in her veins. He loped over, put a hand on her back and ushered her to the table.
Eve ignored Reynner’s stony stare. Whether it was because Aerén had taken the seat beside her and was so attentive, she had no idea. But she appreciated Aerén’s attempt to put her at ease.
However, the tension emitting from him enclosed her in its force field, as if he were about to explode. He shifted on his seat, knees bouncing—it surprised her he hadn't toppled off his chair yet.
Something had happened. They were all on edge. And like a virus, it took root in her, too. She ran nervous fingers down her dress. A mug of coffee appeared by her elbow. Grateful for the distraction, she gave Izzeri a quick smile. “Thank you.”
As she reached for the cream, the prickling sensation swarming over her grew. Eve looked up and found herself being studied by the cold stranger. There was nothing sexual about his scrutiny, but she understood exactly how a bug under a microscope must feel.
“Eve, this is Lucan.” Reynner introduced her. “Luc, Eve Leighton.”
Lucan merely stared in response to her croaked “hello.” But there was a note in Reynner’s voice that had her glancing at him. Was he irritated? Did he not like the man?
Her questions vanished when she met Reynner’s dark, brooding stare. Instantly, memories pulled her back to his room where he’d trapped her against the wall. Her stomach dipped in painful remembrance. But when his gaze blanked out, became unreadable, a pang of regret settled in her.
To give herself something to do, Eve drew the sugar bowl closer. She needed to get her head screwed on right. The only feelings Reynner had for her were ones of revulsion. He must despise her for what she’d unintentionally seen. But the images of the horrid creatures hurting him, and then what that awful woman had done...
Unable to completely shut off those thoughts, she loaded her coffee with several servings of sugar then gulped down half the syrupy brew hoping it would steady her.
The question she’d overheard Aerén ask lingered in her mind. Eve wondered if it was the same reason Reynner wanted to talk to her. Might as well get this over with, then.
She set her coffee down. “What is it you wanted to ask me?”
Reynner focused those night-sky eyes on her. A spark of blue flickered in them. “When you've finished with your meal, meet me in the living room.”
He waited until she nodded, then left his half-eaten apple on the countertop and strode from the kitchen, his bare feet soundless on the floor. Eve watched him go, and her brows knitted in confusion at the rough scabs already forming over his wounds.
