“You’ve been in here the whole time?” I ask. He nods, and I add, “Damn, I’m getting too comfortable.”
Zep frowns, “I think you can afford to be comfortable here. Not only have you got House and Ethel, who are forces of nature themselves when it comes to protecting those that they care about, but you also have extremely strong wards that Ransom put up, and all of the men here would do anything to keep you safe. There’s no doubt about that.”
I think about it for a moment, “You know what? You’re right. I can be comfortable here and let my guard down. I’m safe.”
He watches me closely, and I take the moment to really look at him. He’s tall, with broad shoulders, and from the way his musclesare visible under his shirt his got muscles upon muscles hiding under there.
What is it about a man in slacks and a dress shirt with the sleeves rolled up that is so fucking hot?
I mean, damn.
I probably spend far too long studying his arms, which is why I notice his hands. Men’s hands are another weak point for me, and no, I can’t explain it. What interests me about Zephyr’s hands is that they don’t really match the whole refined suit-wearing thing that he’s got going on. They’re scarred and calloused, not the hands of someone who doesn’t like to get his hands dirty.
I have a feeling that there is a lot more to Zephyr than meets the eye. I mean, of course there is, you only need to look at the situation that he’s in to see that.
Not only that, but there’s an air of barely controlled danger that surrounds him. Like his violence is right there, just under the surface, waiting to be called on at a moment's notice.
It’s intriguing.
He’s got a strong jawline, dusted with dark stubble that wasn’t there when I last saw him. His eyes are amused, a dark eyebrow raised as my gaze meets his, completely unashamed by the fact that I was so obviously checking him out.
I take a huge bite of pastry in order to stop my mouth from saying something that my brain one hundred percent didn’t agree to say.
Carrying on studying him because I’ve been caught anyway, and what the hell, why not, I realize that his eyes are a dark brown, and I frown, “Your eyes don’t seem like they’re yours.”
Yep, there it is.
The weird thing my mouth shouldn’t have said. Admittedly, it was said through a mouthful of pastry, but from the way that Zephyr freezes, I know that he heard me.
Pure shock colors his expression, “Excuse me?”
I wince, “I am so sorry, that was really rude. Sometimes my mouth says shit that I didn’t tell it to say.” I ramble, and he stares at me, his expression still shocked but also holding another emotion that I can’t quite put my finger on. “Okay, I think I’ve embarrassed myself enough for the evening. I’m going to go.”
Zephyr
Iwatch as she rushes out of the kitchen. I probably should have reassured her that she didn’t offend me, because quite honestly, she didn’t.
She has shocked me though, and I find myself unable to say anything. I run a hand through my hair and sigh as I lean back on the counter. It’s probably a good thing that she’s gone. She makes me lose my damn mind, and all thought and reason go with it.
I remember everything.
People avoided me, no one would look at my face, let alone meet my eyes, even those who I considered the closest to me couldn’t, and then there’s her.
She can meet my gaze with no problem, and definitely doesn’t look at me with fear, although she should. I don’t know how she heardme in the kitchen, and I don’t know how I knew that it would work. But I’ve quickly come to realize that anything to do with Neith is unpredictable, to say the least.
I know who she is, of course I do, and it’s creating an extreme amount of conflict in me.
I smirk. That was a lie.
Admittedly, it’s not creating that much conflict, because fuck that.
Any loyalty I thought I had fled the moment that my eyes landed on her. I’ll not only watch the world burn for her, but I’d light the fucking match myself, or I suppose, since I’d be doing it for Neith, I’d set the bomb myself.
Neith loves explosions in a way that makes the feral side of me growl with approval.
The situation is fucked up, but I am more determined than ever to find a solution.
Anger burns brightly at the situation that I’ve been forced into, and I feel my magic rattle at the cage I’ve stuffed it into. I can’t allow it out here. I can’t allow my anger out here either.
