He pulled me back with one effortless tug and the momentum carried me straight into him. My chest nearly collided with his. His scent flooded my lungs. I looked up and his face was inches from mine.
Storm gray eyes stare at me as his jaw tensed. His gaze dropped to my mouth for a fraction of a second before jerking back up.
My heart slammed against my ribs so hard he probably heard it.
Focus, Mira. For the love of God, focus.
I stepped back. He released me, but his thumb dragged across my pulse point on the way out. A single stroke that sent electricity racing up my arm and detonating behind my ribs. My lungs forgot their entire job description and I had to physically stop myself from grabbing his hand and putting it back.
“Why are you coming from there?” I managed, crossing my arms and leaning against the banister. Very casual. Completely unaffected by his presence.
Lucian raised one brow. “I can’t walk around my own cabin?”
“I mean, I thought you were supposed to be down there.”
He didn’t answer. His gaze slowly traveled down my body instead. The jacket hanging off my frame, the hem brushing my thighs. Then his eyes locked on the name stitched.
VALDRIS.
His surname. On me. Covering my body in his name.
Lucian’s jaw tightened and the gray in his eyes darkened until I felt the weight of his attention press against my skin. I became acutely aware of my bare legs beneath the jacket, the thin satin nightgown underneath, how little fabric separated his gaze from every nerve ending in my body. My skin prickled with heat.
Oh, you would really enjoy that, wouldn’t you, Mira? Be serious.
I shook my head to clear the thought, which made Lucian’s brow furrow at me, confused.
“I left a file in my office,” he said finally. Lower. Rougher than before.
He walked past me toward the stairs. “Let’s go. Solomon is waiting.”
I followed a step behind and my gaze tracked his hands at his sides. His fingers curled into fists as he descended, knuckles pressing white.
He was holding himself back. The realization that he was struggling to keep his hands off me made my stomach flip.
The living room opened up below us. Solomon emerged from the kitchen carrying a plate of toast in one hand and a mug of coffee in the other. He crossed to the coffee table and set both down. His pale silver eyes found mine the moment I stepped off the last stair, tracking me with that quiet focus.
“Morning.” He set a mug of coffee beside the plate.
“Good morning.” The normalcy of it almost made me laugh. Just a regular morning, breakfast with three strangely mysterious men.
I grabbed a piece of toast and dropped into the armchair across from the couch, pulling my legs beneath me. Lucian and Solomon settled onto the couch.
Footsteps hammered down the staircase.
Percy appeared with a towel slung around his neck, rubbing it through damp auburn waves, and dropped onto the couch beside Solomon. Solomon shifted an inch from the spray without changing his expression. Lucian didn’t acknowledge his arrival at all.
Three men on the couch. Three sets of eyes on me.
The sight was absurd. Endearing, in a terrifying way. Enormous, supernaturally gorgeous puppies, waiting for me to throw them a bone.
“We need to talk,” Lucian said.
I tore a corner off my toast and chewed slowly. Stalling, because once this conversation started, there was no going back. “Yeah. We do.”
He leaned forward, elbows on his knees. “What do you remember?”
I set the toast down and met his eyes. “Not enough. A few visions. Fragments that don’t connect.” My voice came outsteady. “But I believe you now… About the memory loss and that we met before.”
