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“What?” He groans, slightly tilting his hips to press his cock into me. “Isn’t this what you want? Me drippin’ all over you like every other male? You want me to spill all our secrets to you?” His hand grasps my chin, pulling my attention onto him again when I try to move away. “You and Killian are the exact fucking same, and that’s the problem. But what he’s going through right now, Saskia, it’s tormenting him from the inside out. You’re not fucking worth it.”
I lick my lips. “I don’t—”
Someone grabs me from my shoulder, pulling me off Kyrin’s lap. Everything happens so fast. There’s someone screaming, the starry sky, embers from the fire floating above me. I reach up to touch one, my head dizzy when Kenan’s face comes above mine.
“Up, Drago.”
I groan, slowly standing to my feet. “What the—” Everything comes into focus and the first thing I notice is Killian standing in front of me. No, not in front of me, he’s guarding me, as if I’m a caged animal that only he can pet.
“The fuck, Kill!” Ky kicks up from the ground, swiping his mouth. “Really?” Kyrin laughs as blood trickles down his chin. He shoves Killian out of the way. “We’ll talk about this later, motherfucker. Sort your shit out.” Ky reaches for his glass and starts moving back to the patio.
“Killian…” I whisper, reaching for his arm, only as soon as I touch him, he rears away from me, dropping to the chair where Kyrin was, throwing his hoodie over his head.
“Don’t.”
I turn around to face everyone and try to decipher their cryptonyms. Kenan and Perse stand there with King, watching us both carefully. I shake my head. “Give us a minute.”
“Oh my god!” Callan stumbles down the stairs and makes her way to us.
Perse steps forward, a snarl on her mouth, but I reach out and stop her, shaking my head.
Spinning around, I walk straight up to Callan until we’re chest-to-chest. “Back the fuck up.”
Callan glares at me in shock, before laughing like a psychopath. “Or what? Pretty girl. What are you going to do?”
I search her eyes, a dark smirk on my mouth. “You take one more step near him, Callan, and I will fucking drop you.”
She moves forward, but then her eyes come back to mine. She exhales. “Whatever, Saskia. Keep forcing him to hang around you, and I’ll still be here when he needs to fuck his demons away.” She turns to walk back toward the patio.
“Oh.” I start following her, rage thundering through my blood. Perse chases me, her hand coming to my chest. She searches my face. I see the pain in them. Pain and sorrow.
“As much as I know you want to hit her.” Her eyes flick over my shoulder. “There’s someone else who needs you right now, Sass.”
My heart thunders in my chest. I don’t know what came over me just then. It was as though every single instinct inside of me came roaring to the surface and I wanted to kill Callan if she so much as breathed near Killian.
“It hurts,” I admit, wincing.
“What hurts, honey?”
My throat contracts around the giant boulder that is lodged deep inside. “Seeing him.”
Perse exhales. “Go to him, Saskia. He needs you.” She rolls her eyes. “He’s just stubborn as all hell.”
I turn around to find King kneeling down beside Killian, whose face is as hard as stone. It’s like staring right at an ancient Greek statue, every single feature carved to perfection. The fire burns orange hues over his tanned skin, only casting off shadows where his cheekbones dip and his eyelashes blink over.
I make my way back to Killian, just as “Trippin’” by Khalid starts playing. King slowly steps back and disappears with Kenan and Perse, leaving us alone. Far enough away from anyone else. My stomach clenches with nerves.
“Kill…” I whisper, but he doesn’t look at me. I kneel between his legs, resting my hands on his thighs. “Talk to me.”
Slowly, his face turns to me. Nothing. Not a smirk. Not an inkling of any emotion. It’s as though someone has removed his soul and replaced it with someone else entirely. I begin to feel like an idiot so I slowly stand, only his hand comes to mine.
I freeze. The air begins to thicken as I bring my eyes to his.
“Want me to sit?” I gesture to his lap.
His attention stays on me, and the atmosphere intensifies as every minute passes. His jaw tenses before he yanks me down onto his lap. I swing my legs over his and he curls his arm in, pulling me in closer. Reaching down, he picks up a bottle of whiskey and brings it to his lips.
I need to somehow separate him and that bottle.
“Why?” he whispers, so low I almost miss it.
