“Did you just mark me?” I mutter through clenched teeth.
Elliot smiles, but it doesn’t reach his eyes.
“You’re still mine, Iris. That hasn’t changed. And I will not let them forget it.”
Dred is wrong.
Elliot is perfectly himself. This just happens to be the version of him that isn’t preoccupied with making everyone else feel better, including me.
I would say it’s jealousy if I thought he were capable of such emotion, but knowing what I know now, I guess it’s nothing but apathy.
I guess it always was. Strange how convincing he can be.
“Have a nice night, Elliot.”
He lifts his chin in acknowledgment.
“You too, princess.”
I don’t wait for Elsie and Kitty. I think if I continue standing here, I will explode. Or drain every man in a four-foot radius just to see if it will satisfy me.
That’d be cool.
Get out of my head, Dred!
He laughs aloud as I turn on my heel, searching through the crowd.
It only takes me thirty seconds to find what I’m looking for.
Tall, dark, muscular—horns thicker than my thighs and too dumb to consider why I smell like dog—a minotaur twice my size, with a lust pouring out of him so strong he could drown in it.
My glamour fits a little tighter than I remember as I let it fall over my face. It’s been a while since I’ve needed it, but it is no less effective.
The minotaur, already watching, moves in my direction.
The crowd parts for him. Or rather, he parts the crowd with his broad shoulders and whip of a tail.
“Hi.”
His voice rumbles, but I do not answer.
I’m not interested in anything he has to say.
I take him by the hand and lead him onto the dancefloor, letting him pull me in close and run his hands over my body.
It is not a loving touch, but a hungry one. One I’m less familiar with as of late. I’ve become so used to Elliot’s knowing hands; I almost forgot how men are. Clumsy, lazy. Always wandering aimlessly. But it’s alright. I have no plans on feeding from this man. I just need him to stand here and look pretty while Elliot watches what’s “his.”
Chapter24
I Know Torture When I See It
ELLIOT
What the fuckis with her and these skirts?
When they find the minotaur headless and dead in Trinity Square, it’ll be because of the fucking skirts. And possibly because I’m an idiot who doesn’t know when to quit while he’s ahead. But sue me, it’s Iris.
She’s punishing me. I know she is.
