Alive.
I wait.
My silence manipulates her into doing what I want.
The second she gives in, it’s game over. I’ve won.
She has no idea that I am going to destroy her.
Make her beg me to give her what she wants.
And in exchange, she’ll give me what I want: the fucking dagger that holds eternal magic.
Swallowing, she shuts her eyes for a few seconds, needing to steady her emotions.
The moment she’s decided, I see it in her expression.
Her eyes flutter open and meet mine.
The seductive music filters in from the siren singing with the band at the ball, and the soft pink hue that pulses off the cube’s wall falls across her skin sensually.
And that’s it.
I lock eyes with her, expecting her to look terrified.
She doesn’t.
I lift my hand and beckon her forward.
Without hesitation, she does what I want.
And I know I’ve already won.
Chapter Seven
Letting Your Guard Down
Katya
He hasn’t won. Not at all. So don’t even think about it. I’m not typically a violent person, but he makes me want to punch him in his beautiful face. One minute, I empathize with him. And the next, I want to stab him in the heart. I need therapy. Either way, I am going to win tonight.
Not him.
He slides back onto the sofa, watching me. Without trying, he takes up all of the space in the room. He waits me out. Waiting for me to call his bluff. I don’t. I know he’s trying to manipulate me, bend me to his will. What he fails to realize is that this little stunt of his—it’s not going to work.
At least, not the way he expects it to.
He angles his head, staring into my eyes. The more intense the situation, the better he is at remaining in control. He thrives on it as he motions for me to go to him. For a moment, I hesitate.
But the truth is, a part of me wants him to like me.
I want him to keep looking at me with his sinful gaze.
I want him to touch me again.
If I’m stuck playing games with him all night, I might as well get some pleasure out of it. Right? Our eyes stay connected as he studies each step I take toward him as if he’s trying to ingrain my movements into his memory. Before I can give it another thought, I take a deep breath and stop when my knees brush his. Slowly, I lean over him, my hands sliding up his thighs and my lips coming within a breath of his as I sway my hips to the sensual pulse of the music.
Dragneel narrows his darkened eyes at me. “This should be interesting.”
The challenge mixed with awe in his tone is all the encouragement I need. Readying to crawl onto his lap, I start to lift my leg, but his quick movements stop me cold. Reaching out, he grabs me by the hips and pulls me forward, so I’m caught between his legs, ending my actions.
Staring up at me, Dragneel rubs his thumbs over the thin material of my black dress. My chest rises and falls with each brush of his fingers against my body, awakening a need within me.
“I’ve changed my mind,” he rasps.
Pinching my brows, I look down at him. The look he’s giving me has me feeling like I’m about to jump out of my own skin. Slowly, his palms skim up and down my sides. His touch is warm and sends tiny zaps of fire into me. I’ve never been so in tune with myself or my body as I am right now.
His hands lift, and his fingers lightly caress the sides of my face.
At the touch, I relax.
Once I let my guard down, he grabs my hands, placing them around the back of his neck.
Without letting go, he pushes to his feet, forcing me to take a step back. Dragneel won’t let me, though. He brings me closer to his body, wrapping his arms around the small of my back.
I stare up into the layers of gray in his eyes as his forehead drops and rests against mine. No matter how many times I lock eyes with him, trying to figure him out, I can’t. Because, I realize his darkness hides a devastating sadness. He’s full of mistrust. Fearful of being hurt.
I swallow when I realize he’s moving us around the private space—dancing with me.
The dim lighting.
The slow music.
The intimacy.
It all becomes overwhelming, and I tighten my grip on his neck, shaking off the panic.
“I sense the blood magic in your veins, Kat,” he whispers before pushing me away from him, giving me space and a brief moment to catch my breath from the weight of his statement.
Then, he turns me in a circle and pulls me back into his arms, not giving me a chance to escape. Because . . . he knows. The force of it causes me to almost trip, and I have to grab his neck again so I don’t stumble. I swallow as he tilts his head to the side, trying to figure me out.
I go entirely still under his gaze, panicked. He knows. No one knows.
One of his hands lifts to my cheek, cupping my face as if it is precious to him. “Am I right?”
Nodding, I try not to let my emotions get the best of me. “Given you have the same magic running in your veins, I’m surprised it took you this long to sense the dark magic in me.”
Dragneel looks down at me through thick lashes with lust-filled eyes as we move as one.
“Why did you need saving, Katya?” he asks, leading the dance.
“Do I look like someone who needed saving?”
My argument is flimsy. We both know it.
At some point, we all need saving.
“The only way to attain blood magic is if your life is in danger of slipping away. Or you’re in jeopardy of losing your magic, which in turn could kill you,” he trails off, staring into my eyes.
I hate that my body feels like it’s on fire when I barely know him.
Then again, it’s a lie I keep telling myself—that I barely know him.
He and I, we’re the same. In more ways than just shared magic.
I shake off the memories as fast as they come. “Why do you even care?”
His grip on me tightens. I feel each finger, each press against my body as he whispers in my ear, “Tell me. Tell me why we are the same.” His voice catches in his throat, and I tremble.
“I was saved by a high priestess who practices dark magic. The blood spell she used was meant as a punishment. She was forced to save my life because I was foolish. And selfish.”
The tension jumps between us. “How so?”
“After years of reading auras and fortune-telling through my card magic, I became overcome with sadness that I couldn’t change the bad in our kind’s fates. One day, I did. And it felt incredible and good to be able to save someone who wouldn’t have been saved otherwise,” I admit quietly.
“So you began changing fates?” he surmises.
“Yes. It takes a lot of magic to do that. And mine depleted. When the high priestess found me, I was on the brink of death. At the magic council’s orders, she saved me, using blood magic, darkening my own magic as punishment for misuse and mistreatment of my powers,” I finish. “In exchange for her . . . kindness, I agreed to become a guardian of eternal magic.”
“Yet you still change fates during readings?” he points out.
“I do.”
Dragneel licks his lips. “Listen to me very carefully. You didn’t deserve that punishment.”
“Didn’t I? I mistreated my powers.”
“You thought you were helping. Even now, with the darkness inside you, you help them.”