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“Hell, yeah it is,” Ice replied, standing up.
She sat her book down and swung her legs over the side of the couch. “What do we do now then? We can’t—I mean, I don’t think you should give her back?”
“I have no intention to.”
I didn’t expand on this. There was something about Star that provoked a possessive side of me. It was a part of myself I wasn’t all that acquainted with yet, and for once in my life I didn’t know what
to do aside from just go with it and see what happened.
Bella chewed her lower lip. “Then what are you going to do?”
“I thought I’d start with some discord.”
“And how do you intend to do that?”
“I’m going to let them know I have her.”
Ice chuckled and Cam followed suit. Bella looked between us with a frown. “Do I even want to ask why?”
“Of course.”
She sighed and shook her head at me. “Okay, Sir Lucifer. Why?”
I grinned. “It’s time to cause a little mayhem.”
CHAPTER ELEVEN
I’d chewed the inside of my cheek raw. My water was empty as well as my bowl, and now I regretted eating the curry. The knots in my stomach had me worried everything would come back up. All I could think was that they were going to give me back.
I didn’t want to die, but I wasn’t terrified of it either. There were things much worse than death. The A.R.C was one of them.
Would they put me through another crucifixion or finish shipping me off to the husband I’d assuredly humiliated?
I traced my hundredth invisible pattern into the tempered glass, straining to hear any sounds. There’d been a loud thud followed by laughter about fifteen minutes ago, but nothing else since.
With a small huff, I rubbed my forehead. I should have gone to the bathroom when I had the chance. My bladder was making a point to remind me I hadn’t, and these nerves weren’t helping.
When a hand landed on my shoulder I jumped, nearly pissing myself. I knocked it away without thinking and stood up, turning to face whoever was behind me.
“Hey.” Luce held my forearms and applied just enough pressure for me to snap out of my mini panic attack.
“You’re okay,” he stated firmly.
I looked up at him, unable to speak. My heart felt as if it were going to slam out of my chest.
“You’re okay,” he repeated, stroking my arms where he held them.
I glanced over, tracking the movement of his thumb. I noted how clean and trimmed his nails were. He didn’t let me go, even as my breathing began to return to normal. I replayed what just happened and my face burst into flame. I’d let my guard down completely—one of the worst possible things I could do in this situation.
“If I say we can pretend that didn’t just happen, will you look at me?”
I met his gaze head-on, peering right into his two pools of obsidian. “But it did happen.”
He stared back at me and I got the feeling he was searching for something. But I didn’t know what. His eyes had a vocabulary that was all their own, speaking a language that soothed the damaged parts of my soul.
He brought his face closer, stopping when our lips were a mere few inches apart. “What happened?” he asked softly, playing off how I’d just reacted.
My heart sped up for an entirely different reason, and my stomach somersaulted. As if he sensed the change, he dropped his hands and stepped away.
