But I can’t.
I know what he’s doing to her. Thorin’s had this kink for years. What I don’t expect is for her to open her eyes—for them to find mine and hold my stare while my brother breeds her.
I’m frozen in place until they finish. Thorin sets her on her feet, and just as they both turn, I rush inside the cabin and slam the door behind me before leaning against it.
Now I feel like the creep.
It’s been a few days since the avalanche, and while Aurelia and I have barely spoken and have seemingly agreed to steer clear of one another, I’m alarmed by how quickly I’ve become used to her presence. She sleeps in the loft, takes care of the cabin, asks a lot of fucking questions, and distracts my brothers…a lot. And when she’s not doing that, Aurelia’s watching me when she thinks I’m not paying attention, and I know what she’s searching for.
Seth.
Don’t get me wrong. I still want her gone, but I no longer have panic attacks when she walks into a room, so that’s something. Now I only have them whenever she talks to me, looks at me, or gets too close. It should be a good thing that I’m getting used to her, but I’m worried about letting my guard down like my pussy-whipped brothers.
Thorin and Khalil haven’t been subtle in their attempts to play matchmaker either. They can feel the connection between Aurelia and me—my wariness and her anguish weaving together into a rope that’s quickly fraying at the edges.
But Aurelia doesn’t want me.
She wants Seth.
And I don’t know if my interest, however thin, is because Aurelia’s a tempting and convenient hole or because she’s just tempting. I can still enjoy a good fuck. It’s the one thing Isaac didn’t take away from me. After Thorin and Khalil rescued me from the compound, sex was the only thing that made me feel in control, so for a while, I used it like a torch to chase the darkness away…however briefly.
And then we came here, and there was no running from it, so the three of us welcomed the dark instead. We embraced who we truly were at our core, but alone up here, there was no one to unleash ourselves on. No one to unveil what lurked underneath.
And then Aurelia showed up, and I’m supposed to believe she’s not looking for a way out?
Doesn’t she know what we are?
Finding out from Khalil and Thorin thatSethand—by some fucked-up extension—me is head over heels in love with this perplexing and prickly girl is hard to swallow.
If only I could remember…
Unable to trust my own feelings, I’ve been spending a lot of time hiding out in my now empty room. I was planning toclear it out the day Aurelia’s plane crashed, but those plans were derailed when I found her in Khalil’s bed and Seth hijacked my head before I had a chance to even truly process her being there.
Some days I worry that Aurelia might be expecting more from me than I’m capable of giving, and others I hate myself for what she must be feeling. Maybe like having the rug pulled out from under her?
None of this is fair to her either, and my brothers have sacrificed too much for me already. I want to be strong for them. It’s the least I can do now that they’ve found this slice of happiness for themselves.
Fleeing to the kitchen when I hear footsteps on the porch, I grab myself a glass of water.
Aurelia walks in a moment later looking flushed, with her robe tied, thankfully, and her golden curls slicked with sweat and pinned on top of her head.
Jesus.
I can see the fucking stubble burn Thorin left all over her neck.
The sheer amount of spontaneous fucking in and around this goddamn cabin is the only thing I haven’t gotten used to. Thorin, Khalil, and I have been monks for the last nine years, jerking off in private and silently wishing for better days.
Now those days are finally here, but there’s only one problem.
I don’t trust Aurelia George.
Startled when she heads for the sink where I’m leaning, I find a reason to escape to the other side of the island. Aurelia doesn’t look at me though as she turns on the water, washes her hands, and splashes her face and neck. She then grabs one of the tin cups drying on the mat, and I start inching out as she fills it up with water and sips from it.
I’m clearing the edge of the island when her voice, soft and teasing, stops me in my tracks. “Are you running from me, Ezekiel?”
Feeling ridiculous since I’m nearly a foot taller and have at least fifty pounds on her, I force myself to face her. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“You’re afraid of me,” she says in that blunt way of hers.
