Her eyes are distant when she looks at me, glassy and empty.
The image is wholly foreign for a woman who, at any given time, has so much life pouring out of her it could suffocate a man, and I find myself wondering who I have to kill so that fate will leave her be.
When she finally speaks, her voice is low, soft, and defeated.
“I refuse to be embarrassed by you, Cross. And that—” she gestures at my phone ”—is clearly more than we bargained for. Maybe I should just?—”
“No.”
She groans, rolling her eyes so far back I think they might get stuck.
“You can’t just say no,” she says, shoulders slumping.
“Yes, I can. You’re not the only one in that picture, Iris. Do you know what they do to people like us?”
“People like us?”
“Dangerous people,” I clarify. “The ones with so much power it makes them nervous. If you’re lucky, they slap a dampener on you and turn you loose like Cain. A brand on your back for everyone to gawk at. If you’re not, they leave you to rot in a hole somewhere for the rest of your life.” My own dampener constricts at the mere thought of her alone in a dungeon somewhere. “They’re already afraid of us. All they need is an excuse. I’m begging you not to give them one.”
I’m on my knees now, her hands clutched tight between my own, but she doesn’t pull away.
Iris is not naive. She knows every word I’ve said is true. But it still takes a while before she can stand to look at me again, and when she does, her eyes are misty. The dark color swimming in a pain I’m more than familiar with.
But eventually she blinks away her unshed tears and nods.
“Okay,” she says, voice unusually soft.
I pull her hands to my lips, pressing a swift kiss to her open palm.
“Thank you,” I mutter against her skin.
I don’t move until the clock tower rings, marking the hour and disrupting the quiet moment.
“Shit.” I curse as I stand. “Come on.”
“No,” she shakes her head. “I’ll be fine. Just go.”
“No, we need to talk about our new friend,” I say. “And you still need to eat something.”
I tug her to her feet before collecting her bag off the floor. She follows begrudgingly, but she doesn’t fight me as I lead her to the door. Not until it swings open.
Her foot blocks the path, and I look back to see a more familiar, heated expression on her delicate face.
“If you embarrass me again,” she says, pointing a finger at me. “I’ll cut your dick off in your sleep.”
She smiles as she levels her threat, and a thrill runs down my spine as her sharp words meet their mark.
I tuck her under my arm, unable to keep the smile off my face.
“Promise?”
Chapter11
Were-Psychology
IRIS
I don’t askmany questions as Elliot drags me around. I’m too busy trying to wipe away the burning urge to hit something. That something being him.
