Page 51 of Deadmen's Queen
Bast shrugged. “Honestly? I have no idea. There’s no point fantasising about something that can never happen. I won’t disappoint my father after he’s worked so hard to make us into something. I can’t let him down. But what about you? Can’t you step back, walk away?”
I snorted. “No one walks away from Carver,” I said. “He'd have me hunted down in an instant.”
“They’d struggle to take you down,” grinned Bast.
The corner of my mouth twitched. “Even I might find it tricky to fight off a team of twelve men. Even I need to sleep a few hours a night.”
Except this week. I’d got too used to having Paige in my bed. Even when she’d been with Bast, she’d sneak away when he was asleep, into my room. I hadn’t let myself use her again. I was too afraid of losing control, of hurting her. But I’d started to climb into bed around midnight, lying awake until I felt her slide in next to me, her tiny body curling around mine, her fingers twirling around the hair on my chest. She smelt of orchids, and musk, and sex, and often I’d lie there with the biggest fucking hard on for an hour before finally drifting off to sleep. But when she was with me, the nightmares didn’t arrive, and I could sleep for hours. Without her, my nights were dark again, haunted by the past, and I could see for myself the dark rings under my eyes.
“She’s here,” said Bast quietly, as though reading my mind.
Something in his tone made me look up. And there she was, her hair catching the light as she moved through the crowd. She looked stunning.
The sight of her nearly knocked the breath out of me. Dressed in a sparkling midnight blue dress, its silhouette hugging her curves before flaring gently to the ground and baring her neck and shoulders, she was an unexpected relief in the middle of this madness. Water in the desert. The sudden fluttering in my stomach was disconcerting; I’d never reacted to a woman like this before.
Tristan caught sight of us, and guided her through the crowd. I noticed the eyes of the men slide sideways as she passed, and rage sparked inside me. She was ours.
“About time you showed up,” Bast said, reaching out and grabbing a couple of glasses of champagne from the nearest passing server.
“Traffic,” she replied, her eyes not meeting mine.
I caught the flush on her cheeks, the way her gaze darted away. It told me everything I didn't want to know. Tristan's smug grin twisted my gut, lit a fuse of jealousy that burned hot and fierce.
She looked up at me, her eyes travelling over my body in a way that made my skin heat.
“You look so good, Nate. I wouldn’t have recognised you.”
“So do you. I’m glad you came,” I muttered. I was no good at this small talk shit. We never talked. In bed at night, even at the gym when I put her through her paces, my cock hard as hell as I watched her push herself harder each time. I wanted her so badly, but I could never say the words, and I could never take that risk.
But the nights before she came to me, they were torture. Bast’s room was across from mine, and although I could have stayed downstairs, or gone to the gym, I found myself waiting for them each night, wanting to catch just that small piece of her. I’d listen to them together, closing my eyes and imagining her moans were for me as I fisted my cock, imagining what they were doing, or remembering that night in my bed. She’d been incredible, taking more than I thought she would, but I craved more, and that amount of darkness would extinguish her tiny flame.
“Son, there you are.” His voice sliced through my heated thoughts like ice, and I forced a passive look onto my face as my father pushed through the crowd towards us. He stopped, looking Paige up and down like she was some car he was thinking of buying. I felt sick, remembering his latest girl. She’d been around Paige’s age.
“This must be Persephone,” he said, holding his hand out to Paige. She nodded, taking his hand. He brought her fingers to his lips, and I shuddered at the sight of his mouth on her skin.
“Beautiful,” he said, his eyes fixed on her breasts. “Just beautiful. I hope my son is taking full advantage.”
I gritted my teeth and Paige flushed bright red. Father laughed.
“Oh, you are a sweet one. No wonder they wanted you.” he released her hand, only to slide it around her waist, pulling her close to him. “I’m only joking, Persephone. Just some light humour to brighten my mood. Business events can be such a drag.”
I saw Paige withdraw inwardly, her body going rigid as she tried to maintain composure. The smile she flashed was plastic and forced, but it seemed to satisfy the old man.
“I'm glad you approve,” she said. Her grip tightened on the stem of her champagne glass.
“Oh, I approve,” he said, leering down at her, his thumb rubbing slowly over her hip.
A nerve pulsed to life in my jaw. His crude implications, the underlying ownership he implied… it was unbearable. The room began swirling around me, the noise of laughter and clinking glasses threatened to flood my senses. Paige was mine. Ours. I needed him to stop touching her. The protective fury that surged through me was primal, undeniable.
“Enough,” I growled.
“Something wrong, son?” Father's eyebrow arched innocently, but the look in his eyes was cold. I knew that look, and despite the fact I now towered a good six inches above him, it still affected me. My stomach churned, old fears awakening under that gaze. My chest tightened and my fingertips itched. I felt the spike of adrenaline, the hyper awareness of every sound and sensation, and despite the fact I wanted to tell him to back off, I couldn’t. I needed to get out of there before the panic consumed me.
“No, nothing. Brandy went to my head. I just need some air,” I lied, turning away and heading for the far doorway. My pulse racing and my heartbeat drumming in my ears, I shoved through the crowd, faces blurring into nothingness.
“Excuse me,” I mumbled.
I reached the stairs, and took them two at a time, until finally turning down a hallway away from the crowd below. My breath came in short gasps, each one a battle. The walls seemed to press in, wallpaper patterns swirling into taunting demons as I stumbled down the hallway. Laughter from the ballroom echoed, a mocking soundtrack to my torment. I needed to find somewhere quickly.