Kenji picks up his phone again and sighs, turning it toward me. Colorful candy bursts across the screen in mini-explosions as he thumbs a few pieces over, matching them and chasing a coveted combo. “He ruined my streak.”
I nod, fisting my hands over my lap.
Bring the screen back up. I need to see her.
The girls on stage dance, rather poorly if I might add. Their heels wobble, sweat beads as I’m sure many haven’t danced in a long time, and their lips tremble with the effort to keep smiling. As they see the numbers click up on the screen, their hips sway wider, and the men in the room chuckle and holler as through they’re a bunch of school-aged boys. Finally, the numbers pulse, declaring one the “winner.” They lead her offstage, restraining the other girl for show before dragging her the opposite way.
I fist my glass as the screen flickers back to life, and my eyes immediately go to the bottom screen to find Thea missing from her room.
There’s an uptick in my pulse.
When the lights drop even lower, I can’t decide if my mind is playing tricks on me, or if the red haze is deliberate. Sensual music plays that crawls under my skin as Thea and … Juliette shuffle on stage. The men in the crowd cheer, making a show of biting their knuckles and raising their glasses, their liquor sloshing over the side.
Juliette immediately shrugs off her bralette straps, letting them fall over her shoulders. Thea doesn’t even seem to realize what she’s done. She just stares, a deer in the headlights, while the men erupt into a frenzy.
Guard coin pours in, hitting over ten thousand in seconds—all for Juliette. Her hips roll, and her arms raise, slicing through the air and slowly twisting in time with her body. She bites her lip and scans the room until her eyes snag on mine. Then she’s hooked, gaze only on me.
Juliette’s fingers graze her thighs, teasing at the edges of her outfit. The men salivate, panting like the repulsive dogs they are to get closer to the stage.
My attention darts back to Thea. She’s still frozen, as if she can’t bring herself to move.
Dance, Thea. Dance.
Her chest rises and falls rapidly as she drags her focus around the room in front of her. Most men are watching Juliette, but her eyes meet mine, and I hold them, offering a quick flick to Juliette. Thea follows, and her eyes widen when she sees her provocative moves.
In that one second, something shifts. Thea’s jaw tightens, and she flips her wild hair out of her face. The last flicker of hesitation still burns in her eyes, but resolve flows over herexpression. It’s uncertain, but she sways her hips, unpolished but raw and real. Her body begins to answer the beat of the music pounding. When she locks eyes back toward me?—
I snarl as a man blocks my view, and I stand, reaching out to grip his shoulder. He flinches, and I shove him out of the way. His body stumbles sideways, then crashes into the table next to ours.
This garners Kenji’s attention, and he smirks at me over his phone. I shrug. He’s not hurt, just out of my way. Where he belongs.
Unfortunately, the entire room turns to Thea, their gazes snapping to her as though they’re magnets. Her guard coin rises, yet still trailing Juliette, who commands the edge of the stage with confidence.
My mind wars with itself. If she doesn’t dance, she’ll be subject to the Culling, and if she does—they’rewatching her. The thought sits wrong. Not because she’s mine, but because she shouldn’t belong to any of them.
A low, sharp bitterness burns as hundreds of eyes drink her in. Wanting her. Those bright blue irises, glassy with unshed tears, her thick, rich curls strewn around her sweat-licked face. Not a single one of these men deserves to look at her.
I want to drag her off that floor and hide her. My jaw clenches, and on instinct, I gravitate forward.
“Uh, Slade? Oh, hell,” Kenji says from somewhere behind me.
My fingers curl inward into my toughened palms. The tension rushing through me isn’t just want. It’s something more dangerous. Theneedto keep her safe. What is she doing to me?
I can’t help it. I’m sucked in, staring at her creamy skin marred only by the dandelion tattoo floating up her arm. Obsession isn’t supposed to look like this, is it? It’s not supposed to feel like a weakness. In my mind, it’s power, ownership,control over where and when she pulls me in. But … damn it, it’s the opposite. I’m powerless and even less in control of my actions when it comes to her.
I inhale a breath full of cigar smoke and sweaty cologne, then adjust my glasses as she nervously licks the beads of perspiration off her Cupid’s bow.
I’m losing it.
I’m losing control.
The guard coin continues to click up, but it’s nowhere near Juliette’s. The song will end any moment now, and she’ll?—
Damn it.
I snap.
Cutting through the few members in front of me, I shove past them. She’s still dancing by the time I reach the stage. My hand bolts out, wrapping around her waist, my other gripping the back of her thigh. Before she can blink, I pull her forward and sling her over my damn shoulder. She gasps and tries to twist, but I don’t stop.
