Wes smirked. “My shirt is… summery. Like your little fruit dresses.”
I shook my head. “Wowww. I wanted to see you in fairy wings and a flower crown.”
“Ren faire attire is not within my personal aesthetic, and if you haven’t noticed, I don’t particularly enjoy being told what to do.”
“This is new and shocking information.”
“Doyouhave wings and a flower crown?”
I cleared my throat and glanced out the window. “I do not have a flower crown.”
Wes chuckled, suddenly appearing far too eager. “I cannotwaitto see fairy Nova.”
My cheeks burned. I glared at him. I opened my mouth to say I would’ve gone for something far more unique, but I hadn’t been given the choice, nor did I have any money. But I closed my mouth just as quickly, realizing I couldn’t explain to Wes the origins of my outfit.
Horror suddenly racked through me. Fuck. I shouldn’t have accepted Roman’s gift. For so many reasons, but the one that squeezed my chest now was seated right next to me.
“You okay?” Wes asked.
I shook the feeling away. What did it matter? Nothing had changed between us, no matter how I felt when I was around him. He’d set me free to explore.
“Yeah, I’m okay. My roommates are very concerned.”
“I’m glad they’re looking out for you. Despite your stubbornness.”
“I think you meandetermination,” I said.
Wes’s smile faded. “Tonight is going to be different than before. Don’t be a martyr, Nova. There are going to be regular people like you…”
“The entertainment,” I muttered.
Wes nodded as he continued. “…and there will be people there who are capable and willing to do unspeakable things merely because they fucking can. They’re hungry ghosts. Bottomless pits that will never—can never—be satisfied. They aren’t like us. They do not feel empathy. They do not care about the law. The only language they speak is power. They will not stop doing anything they desire unless they are dead.”
My stomach dropped. The vitriol in Wes’s features made my blood run cold. He seemed to steady himself with a breath, leaning back in his seat and unclenching his fist.
“So you think The Circle’s policy of lifetime bans for consent violations and lawbreaking was all talk?” I asked lamely.
A muscle in his jaw feathered. His laugh was icy. “No. I believe thosearethe rules, maybe even rules Archer and Jayne and their fan club truly believe in. But there will be people at this party who have not and will not ever be bound by anyone else’s codes of ethics. I think that there’s what we see—what is shown to us—and there is what lurks in the shadows, obscured from sight, ready to devour whatever Archer and Jayne inadvertently deliver to them.”
I swallowed hard. Silly me for thinking riding with Wes would be a comforting balm to my already frayed nerves.
“I guess I’ll choose who Iexplorewith wisely,” I mumbled.
Wes tensed, his eyes boring into mine in an instant. He frowned. “That wasn’t—” He shook his head.
I waited for him to continue speaking, but he never did.
“Well, what aboutyourdance card?” I asked before I could stop myself. Perhaps I was a masochist in addition to being a sub.
Wes was bemused, staring at me for three long beats. “Empty.”
I released a breath.
“I don’t do pick-up play.” When I made a confused face, he explained. “Spontaneous play with strangers.” His gaze burned my skin everywhere it touched. “There is nothingcasualabout the way I do kink, Nova.”
I studied the flex of his muscles before meeting his eyes. “Used to,” I corrected him.
His face flashed with uncertainty before hardening into cool resolve. “Right.” The word was clipped, his jaw tense.
