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Beneath a set of gray brows, his irises are completely void of color. It must be impossible for him to see me, yet I’m completely exposed by his stare.
“K’ippi ah-weh,” he murmurs.
I cast an uneasy glance at Penelope, unsure what he’s said, but she only nudges me closer.
“I-it’s an honor to meet you.” Blood pounds in my ears as I repeat a bow similar to hers. “I’m thankful to your people for allowing me to participate.”
His smile is a soft and welcoming contrast to the streaked black lines trailing down his cheeks, ending in thick bands that parallel his neck.
“What you seek will leave you brokenhearted,” he says with enough confidence that I’m certain he can read my thoughts.
Swallowing nervously, I stammer, “I-I’m sorry, I don’t know what you mean.”
The lie dies in my throat when he raises a wrinkled, boney hand and hovers it barely an inch above my chest. I lose touch with reality as a phantom pressure around my heart increases. Like a fist, it grips the organ tight enough to elicit a gasp.
“The friella are peculiar.” Elder Mateo smiles again, but this time, the sensation eases to a soft caress. “Their thorns are sharp and thick, protecting the flower which took much energy to make from harm.”
My palms slick with sweat when he inches forward in his seat. I hold entirely still as he gazes at me in blind wonder.
“It is no coincidence they’ve chosen you this night. But remember, you are not as lonely as your thorns have led you to believe.”
I shiver, breathing too quickly as I take one step backward, followed by another until I’m engulfed by a crowd of people dashing for the other side of the field.
“All right, very funny,” I say, convinced Penelope is pulling a prank on me. “You had your laugh.”
I’m startled by two hands clamping over my shoulders from behind, making my muscles bunch defensively.
I puff my cheeks with a relieved sigh. “I’ll admit, you got me.”
When those hands turn me toward Marcus instead of Penelope, I come face to face with a pair of cutting brows and a troubled scowl.
His fingertips dig into my skin and color leaches from his cheeks as if he’s seen a ghost. Wild eyes scour my face before finally landing on the flowers in my hair.
“Um, hi to you, too.”
Blinking, Marcus’s arms go slack as he falls out of whatever trance had a hold on him. “Sorry. I-I guess I thought you were someone else.”
His hair is sloppily tousled, and he looks effortlessly sexy with the first few buttons of his shirt undone. Flicking my stare to the top of his smooth, exposed chest, my mind automatically finds each imprint of his strong fingers gripping my biceps.
All at once, we’re back on the stairs in his aunt’s house, entirely too close for comfort.
“If you’re looking for the sex tents, they’re over there,” I mutter.
He opens his mouth, closes it, then cocks his head. “What did you just say?”
“Penelope told me there’s some dance party or something later that may lead to someactivities.” My arms fold around my middle. “Figured you may have lost who you were looking for over there.”
“I see.” Despite the way I left him after our ride through the river, a sensual smile dimples the corners of his mouth. “Did Penelope specify whatkindof activities?”
A coil of heat unwinds low in my belly. He knows exactly what kind. And does he really have to rumble it like that?
“Don’t worry, I’ll be long gone by the time you and what’s-her-name start bumping uglies.”
He laughs, and the corners of his eyes wrinkle in an adorable way that both spikes my heart rate and embarrasses me. “Why the sudden interest in my sex life, slayer?”
A burning reminder of Marcus in the barn and the obvious bulge in his jeans makes an appearance at the forefront of my thoughts, followed by Cat and every other woman here pawing at his naked body, straddling, and grinding against him.
Marcus being intimate with another woman shouldn’t bother me in the slightest, but the sickness in my gut only intensifies with each flashing image.
