Page 29 of Pride: Kneel Before None

CHAPTER 10

Smack!

Eve’s open palm connected with my cheek. The impact may as well have been from a fly swatter made of tissue paper. The force of the strike hadn’t even made me flinch. Though the intensity of the icy blue fire in her eyes suggested she had put an admirable amount of effort behind the assault.

Fucking adorable, my Little Spade.

“What the hell is this?!” She gestured wildly at the artistic brand I had left on the inside of her leg.

I reached out and tugged the hem of her dress down in place over her hips, restoring modesty before the rest of Superbia came crawling out of the sewer grates.

“That, Little Spade, is what keeps feeble-minded fools from laying hands on what doesn’t belong to them. In this case?” An uptick of a smirk pulled at the corners of my mouth. “You.”

Her hand flew toward my face again, and this time I chose to stop it from landing. Not because I was fearful or remotely intimidated, but because I didn’t have time for these games. I caught her by the wrist firmly, halting the momentum midair. Her open palm hovered inches away from my cheek.

Eve’s eyes widened, fury and frustration forcing her cherry blossom lips into a tight line as I lowered her hand between us.

Sighing wearily, my thumb stroked idle circles over the inside of her wrist. “Little Spade, you’d have better luck suffocating me into compliance.” I threw her a purposeful pause and a shameless grin. “Preferably by sitting that sweet little cunt on my face until the taste of you saturates my lungs.”

The flush on her face nearly forced steam to blow from her ears.

After sputtering over which vitriol to hurl at me, she finally spat, “I hate you!”

Chuckling, I raised her knuckles to my mouth to press a kiss there, drawing out the contact longer than necessary. Afterward, I released her wrist, which she quickly jerked back into her own space.

“That may be, but ask yourself this, Eve. Who do you hate more? The twisted sack of shit who wants to chain you to a stage while you perform petty predictions?” I stepped forward, placing a hand on the graffiti-laden wall behind her to invade her space. My face hovered an inch away from hers. “Or the man who just made you beg to fall apart on his face?”

I pointedly dragged my tongue over my lips, the taste of her still lingering.

She crinkled up her nose as her brows knit together. We both knew who she preferred out of the two options.

“Come.” I pushed away from the wall, extending a hand to her. An offering to either cling to stubborn pride or consider that maybe I was the lesser of two evils.

Readjusting her dress with annoyed tugs, she flipped her hair over her shoulder and lifted her chin with indignation.

“Where are we going?” It was asked as though whatever answer I gave mattered. We were going wherever I wanted, wherever I could keep her safe from the scum that floated to the top of the shitpond in this city.

A wry smile graced my lips before I responded. “Home.”

As expected, Eve had chosen not to take my politely offered hand on the walk back to Sevenfold. A small rebellion on her part.

When we arrived back at my penthouse, we were greeted by one of my associates. Perched on the arm of the sofa, a man dressed in all silvers and greys waited for us. From the T-shirt beneath his sports coat down to the loafers on his feet, it all blended together. Even his hair stuck with the color scheme, drawn back into a low ponytail with several metal clips down the length of it to keep it in one neat line down his back.

“Mr. Reynard. Miss Bechette,” he greeted with a nod to each of us. The flaky scales of his skin bore an iridescent shimmer, pastels that reflected light even at times when there was none to be found.

Eve eyed him with thinly veiled suspicion. “Who’s this?” she asked as she crossed her arms. Disconcertment rolled off her in waves. The unfamiliar presence of the Drakyn hybrid who knew exactly who she was left her shifting on her feet, scowling with her lips set in a tight line.

As for my associate, he met my eyes, silently seeking permission. A curt dip of my chin granted the unspoken request, prompting him to step forward until he positioned himself before her with enough distance to be polite but still engaged.

One arm curled across his waist, and the other rested on his lower back as he leaned forward, eyes never leaving hers.

“Valphyr Zonis of the Opalfire Clan. At your service, Miss Bechette.” He remained bowed before her, a display of respect not just for her but also born of his loyalty to me. Unfolding himself, he offered a rare smile that reached his pale grey eyes—hues so light that they could almost be mistaken for predawn mist rising from a lake.

Watching closely, I noticed the subtle shift in Eve’s posture when Val offered himself to her beck and call.

I knew that my Little Spade couldn’t resist the appeal of someone whose sole purpose was catering to her needs, to laying the world at her feet. I also knew that Val would adhere to all the strict parameters I’d set forth for him.

Stepping up next to Eve, my hand hovered over the small of her back, just close enough to let her feel the heat radiating from my palm. “I have business to tend to. Val will be here to ensure you remain comfortable in my absence.”