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Fury lashing, I shove the doors open, pushing my way into the room so I can face the stranger. His brown hair is thick and messy, hanging over his ears with a bushy beard covering the lower half of his face. There’s a wild streak in his eyes but it doesn’t strike me as dangerous. Then again, my temper considers me the most dangerous thing in the room by far.
“My sister is none of your business,” I snap at him.
“Tori,” Legion begins.
“And you.” I round on him, and he freezes halfway out of his chair. “You don’t own me,” I say. “I will not be locked away here or anywhere. Not by you or anyone. The moment you are not useful to me, I will go.”
His expression tightens, a dangerous shadow crossing his features. He pushes to his feet slowly, towering over me, though I refuse to step back.
“You will go when I allow it,” he says, his voice deadly calm.
Behind me, the stranger gets to his feet. “I’m just going to let you two…”
I spin to face him, backing away so they’re both within my sights. Removing my scarf is more of a power move than anything—a reminder that I’m lethal and not to be fucked with.
“Who are you?” I demand of the stranger.
He looks from me to Legion. I don’t take my eyes off him to see what Legion says, but the man relaxes. “I’m Klyn. I work with Legion.”
He holds out his hand to shake.
“Tori.” I smirk and start to take my glove off.
His eyes flick to the movement. He smirks and withdraws his hand. “Right. Well, I’m going to let you two work this out. None of my business.”
“If you touch my sister, I’ll kill you,” I tell him.
“Relax, little fae. I’m not going to hurt you.”
“Or my sister,” I press.
“Or your sister,” he repeats.
He shoots Legion a look of amusement that has me itching to press a finger to his throat. “Good luck,” he adds and then walks out, chuckling.
When he’s gone, I turn back to Legion. “Tell me about your bloodline.”
“No.”
“Why were you two talking about it and then me and Kendall? What does it have to do with?—”
He stalks closer. Out of instinct, I back away until my shoulders hit the wall, sending a picture cockeyed though neither of us pays it attention. He looms over me, his temper barely leashed beneath the surface. I watch as the storm gathers in his dark eyes.
It should be scary. On some level, I know that anyone else would find him completely terrifying right now. But instead of fear, I fight the urge to kiss him. To offer him everything I have. To let him take me—in whatever way he wants.
My breath catches, and I can’t think. Not when he looks at me like this.
Not when he’s so close.
His mouth hovering within reach, teasing me.
Taunting death.
“You are here because it’s not safe for you anywhere else.” His voice is low, the roughness raking over every inch of my poisoned skin. “You are not free to go. Not until I say it. You are mine until I let you go.”
“You don’t want me,” I say. “Even if you could touch me, you said you wouldn’t want to. Why are you doing this?”
His gaze drops to my mouth, and for a harrowing second, I think he’s going to kiss me. His words from the other night ring out in my head. That dying from touching me would be worth it.
