“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, baby.”
I brushed the blood off my lip and tried to ignore the people looking at us. Pretty sure Damyr would have no problem cutting me up into tiny pieces if Byron and I ruined his husband’s party.
“You’re mad,” I said as I tried to get my dick under control. It seemed to be enjoying the mania Byron had brought to the party with him like a well-matched accessory.
“I prefer the termcreative, but I’m definitely all yours.”
“What? No, Byron. Can you be normal for one minute?”
“Sure,” he replied quickly before he turned on his superficial charm. It was like a switch had flipped. His entire face brightened, he looked open and approachable, and I hated it. He looked…wrong.
“Maybe ‘normal’ wasn’t the right word,” I said as my gaze roved his face. “Can you stop that?”
“Why?” he pushed, his grin morphing back into the one that was more familiar.
I huffed a quick breath. “Because I don’t like it.”
“You know, most people find my real smile disconcerting. My twin says it freaks people out.”
“I like your smile,” I replied and instantly regretted it. Why the hell had I saidthat?
Byron grinned and fuck me, he looked wicked and it was like everyone faded into the background. All I could see was Byron, and all I wanted was him.
I pressed the heels of my palm into my eyes hard enough that colours started to flicker through the darkness. I couldn’t fucking think. Between Byron, my father and this Shadow Witch shit my mind was all over the place. I was on edge and twitchy and one wrong word away from falling to pieces.
Byron slid his hand slowly around my hip, instantly grounding me, and brought his mouth to my ear. “Let’s go find somewhere quiet and we can talk things through.”
I swallowed and nodded. Quiet sounded good. Maybe I could put my mind in some sort of order in the quiet.
Byron grabbed my hand and dragged me behind him. We left the main reception room, and I walked behind Byron through the twists and turns of the mansion. This place was massive, and I’d never seen much more than Damyr’s office, the meeting room and the breakfast parlour. I had no idea where Byron was taking me and I hadn’t paid enough attention to know how to get back to the party.
He stopped at a door and looked at me over his shoulder, a salacious grin curling his mouth. “Time to play, little witch.”
Wait. What?
Byron opened the door and pulled me through it. As soon as it closed behind us, he slammed my back against it and pinned his body to mine. I could feel every firm inch of him pressing against me and my brain stalled.
“Did you like my gift?” he whispered against my lips.
A flash of panic rose from the pit of my stomach as I thought about that signet ring sitting in my pocket. “Where did you get it?”
“I stole it from the man who was following you.”
My heart lurched and my palms started to turn clammy. “F-following me?”
“Yes. You recognise the ring, don’t you?”
I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t. Why was my father following me?
“Who is he?” Byron asked, his brows drawn down sharply over his piercing blue eyes.
My heart pounded in my chest and drummed loudly in my ears. My shirt was tight around my neck and Byron was too close. I needed to air. Needed space to breathe.
I fisted my hands into Byron’s black shirt and pushed but he didn’t budge. “Byron.”
God, my voice sounded like a damn whimper.
“Who is he?” he repeated, his voice snapping against my skull.