“I can’t help but admire you.” Gedeon brushed my bottom lip to the corner and then back to the center. “You think you have a choice in this.”
He stepped into me, and I instinctively backed away, and away, and away, the faint curve of his mouth a judgment, a sentence, a ruling so cold it coiled in my stomach.
I fizzled with anticipation of whatever was about to transpire.
My thighs collided with the kitchen table, the wood catching part of my weight, and?—
No.
Gedeon didn’t deserve this—the effect he had on me.
One deep inhale, and I steeled myself, locking my knees and squaring my shoulders. “It’smylife.”
“Not anymore.” Invading my personal space, he pinched my chin, the grip so brutal the spider web of nerves in the compressed tissue flamed up. “I asked you once, Kali. To tell me that you were ours, your body, mind and everything else.” The gentle sweep of his lips across my forehead warred with the power rippling from his reminder. “I will ensure you uphold the promise you gave us.”
“But you broke yours, so why can’t I revoke mine?” I lifted my right arm, the statement clear despite the long sleeves concealing my tattoo. “You gave me your trust and took mine in return. And then crushed it.” Gripping his wrist, I yanked his hand away. “So if you think you can vanish without telling anyone, tellingus,I can do the same.”
His eyebrows rose in an assessing manner.
It took the last dregs of my patience to stop myself from punching the smirk off his face. A count from one to ten kept my stomps steady as I stormed to the kitchen counter and leaned against the white surface.
Narrowing in on Clyde, I demanded, “How many rooms does this building have?”
“It’s all open plan. So…one, I guess.” The short man shrugged. His tumble of graying locks shone in the late evening’s sunlight. “All houses on this street are like this. There are bigger ones on the other side of the compound, but it’s a long ride from there to where the ceremony will take place. And Conall prohibited any unnecessary travel as a protection measure against Coriattus attempting anything.”
I threw my head back. I’d told Gedeon to go fuck himself, but it turned out, the universe had decided to do the same to me.
“Oh, before I go.” Clyde paused in the doorway. “You’re also not supposed to leave the house without one of our teams escorting you. They’ll come pick you up tomorrow morning for the meeting.”
Gedeon gave him a curt nod, and the man disappeared, the door shutting with a click of fate, like the slam of a city’s gates.
While Zion twisted the key back and forth to check if the lock was working, Gedeon plopped on the couch to unfasten his leather backpack?—
And stilled.
Holding up a pale blue item of clothing, he glared at the shirt like it had personally insulted him. “What is this?”
“It’s a t-shirt. See? These are the armholes.” Zion tugged on the neckline. “And this is where your head goes.”
“I can recognize a t-shirt, Zion.” Discarding it aside, Gedeon yanked out a heap of fabrics more colorful than the navy upholstery he dropped them on. “Whose backpack is this?”
“Yours, silly. Everything is in your size.” Zion picked out a crimson t-shirt from the pile, and I fought an internal battle against cracking up.
Gedeon blinked, his response to a challenge so familiar I bit my fist, struggling not to make a sound.
“So you mean all I have is a selection of pink, yellow, orange, and bright green t-shirts, or some kind of purple monstrosity,”he sneered at the scattered clothing, took a deep breath, and then expelled the air in a whoosh. “You will pay for this.” He ripped off the long-sleeved shirt he’d worn during our day-long drive and pulled on…the green option.
Seeing him in one of the Zion-approved outfits broke me. Clutching the kitchen table to keep myself upright, I doubled over as reality set in: the man who I hadn’t seen don any other item than black was wearing color.
Gedeon folded his arms, his biceps bulging as he expelled his irritation through physical means. “You knew.”
I glanced at Zion for help. “I?—”
“You mean she knew what was on your mind while you were stripping naked? Then yes, it was me. It’s always me.” Zion propped himself on the armrest of the couch, one leg bent, foot resting on an indigo cushion, and the other dangling off the edge. After scrutinizing Gedeon for a minute, he declared, “I like it.”
Gedeon grimaced at the offending t-shirt clinging to his body. “You like it because it’s tight.”
“And it has three buttons at the top that we can rip off,” Zion pointed out. “You should wear this more often.”
