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Keon doesn’t bother introducing me to anyone. I’m here to be seen, not to play diplomat. And theyabsolutelylook at me, though some seem less interested than others. My understanding is that the Aelyd are predominantly asexual. After the information Keon gave me on the way here, it seems to fit.Aelyds have only started taking brides because they’re more likely to pass on the Gift if they reproduce sexually rather than with test tubes. Thus, quite a few people here—all of whom must be mafia royalty—look at me more like a vessel than an object of desire.
It’s those looks that I hate the most.
Tension coils in the pit of my stomach at the swarming Aelyds all around me. Atlas is here somewhere—the man I’m meant to seduce. Will he look at me like a vessel, or like a sex object? Does he only see me as a commodity?
Will he even let me touch him?
Someone bumps into me on the opposite side from Keon, and I jerk my head towards them as they mutter an apology. I catch a glimpse of silver-gold eyes, shining iron skin, and a sweep of silver hair. He gives me just the hint of a knowing smile, too, his fingers grazing my inner wrist. Corvus. Letting me know he’s here, watching, just in case I need anything.
I appreciate it. Because I’m pretty fucking scared right now, when it feels like I’ve just been thrust into a pit of hungry lions eager for a meal.
The crowd parts, and it’s only then that I see the man himself. It has to be him, the biggest person here with bright silver skin and a shock of white hair that’s shaved on the sides. No less than six bodyguards in full armor stand around him, and I can see the glimmer of a blue forcefield rolling in nearly invisible waves across his skin and black suit. He holds a tumbler in one hand, swirling some lavender liquid inside as he looks out on Solis’ skyline, the Hive in the distance.
I haven’t even seen his face, but I already know he’s beautiful. I can make out the shape of his jaw from this angle, clean-shaven, sharp, wide. He turns his head until he’s in profile, not bothering to look at me fully.
“Hey, Atlas!” Keon shouts with irreverence. “Are you going to greet your bride?”
He finally turns, his free hand in the pocket of his slacks, a large ruby ring on the index finger of the hand holding the glass. I try not to gape at him—he’s fucking gorgeous, though I’m starting to think that might just be an Aelyd thing. A single stray curl lies superman-style across his forehead, and his eyes flash in dark, interminable tones like the northern lights on a midnight sky. The base color is almost black, sparkling with inner depths like a chunk of onyx.
And his body…fuck, I can’t believe he’s never let anyone touch him. He’s got more muscle on him than any other man I’ve seen, visible even underneath his bespoke suit. Broad shoulders taper down to narrow hips, every inch of him impeccably dressed.
His expression is unreadable, though his eyes flare a multitude of colors as they settle on me. Atlas’ brow doesn’t so much as furrow, his hand steady on his glass. I size him up in that moment: control freak, obviously, disciplined, tough. He has the look of a brawler, even if his skin is utterly immaculate. The only place I see any sort of flaw is on his knuckles, which are scarred with old wounds from punching something.
I have to assume he was punching something, not someone, if I’m going to believe what I’ve been told about his resistance to being touched. I don’t know if that applies to beating the shit out of his enemies.
He doesn’t make a move toward me, or offer me a smile, even when I give him one. In fact, he’s completely cold.
This doesn’t seem very promising.
Atlas ignores me, his eyes sliding over to Keon. “What do you want?”
“I thought I would do you the courtesy of picking up your future wife, since you didn’t seem interested in doing so yourself,” Keon says. “You should talk to her. She’s fascinating.”
I glare at Keon, but Atlas is unfazed by the younger man’s snarky disposition. I assume he deals with this a lot.
“She’smine,” Atlas says, his voice simmering with ire. Those words shouldn’t have this effect on me, but the way his voice growls on ‘mine’ makes my pussy clench. Maybe it’s just the after-effects of what Keon did to me on the drive. “You didn’t touch her, did you?”
Keon puts his hand on his chest in mock offense. “I wouldn’t dare.”
“Then why can I scent her arousal?”
A flush of embarrassment colors my cheeks. God, that’s so fucking shameful; I don’t like the idea of strolling around a planet where every single male can smell how turned on I am. Maybe that’s why I got so many weird looks when we walked in.
“She’s just excited to meet you, Atlas,” Keon says. “Don’t be such a spoil sport.”
Atlas opens his mouth, still ignoring me, but I interrupt them both.
“‘She’ is a person, and I can hear everything you’re saying,” I say. “If you have questions, you can ask me.”
Atlas’ stare moves leisurely from Keon to me. In an instant, I feel the effects of his powers, sizing me up. From the tips of my toes to my palms, a wave of static electricity rolls over me, lingering on my nipples. Atlas’ eyes lower to my pussy, and a jolt rushes through me that feels better than any vibrator.
So it really is just going to be like this, I think.
An instant later, though, the sensation is gone.
“Forgive me,” he says, his voice quiet. “I have never met a human woman. I don’t know…what your natural scent is.”
Keon’s arm winds around my shoulders, pulling me into his chest. I feel other people’s eyes on all of us; they’re watching to see how this goes. Maybe another family wants to scoop me up when the Ganivets aren’t looking. I wonder if that’s what happened to Layla.
