Chapter 59
Sebastian
The first dart left my fingers with the familiar whisper of steel cutting air. My golden eyes tracked its trajectory with cold precision, every muscle aligned toward a single purpose: control. It struck the wall three inches from her right ear with a satisfying thunk, the shaft quivering before going still.
Lirael didn't flinch. Her silver-grey eyes stayed locked on mine, wide with terror she was desperately trying to suppress, but steady. So beautifully, impossibly steady. Something dark and possessive unfurled in my chest at the sight of her standing there, arms spread wide, refusing to give me the satisfaction of seeing her break.
I selected the second dart, letting the moment stretch until I could hear Damian's breathing grow harsh with barely contained fury, until I could see Celeste curled into herself in the corner, hands pressed over her mouth. The room smelled of leather and whiskey and fear-sweat, and underneath it all, that maddening scent of moonlight and wild forests that clung to Lirael's skin.
The second dart grazed so close to her left ear that several strands of her hair fluttered before it embedded itself in the wall. This time her eyelids fluttered, her fingers twitched, but she didn't move. The control she was exerting only made me want her more, made me want to strip away every layer of that composure until there was nothing left but raw, honest need.
I picked up the third dart and let myself study her openly—the line of her throat, her carefully controlled breathing, the tension in her hands pressed flat against the wall. She was beautiful in her terror, beautiful in her defiance.
I raised my arm, sighted down the length, and in the last possible second, let my wrist shift slightly. The dart sliced through the air and caught her left shoulder, tearing through fabric and skin, leaving a shallow cut that immediately welled with blood.
She bit down hard on her lower lip, her whole body going rigid, and I watched with dark satisfaction as crimson began to seep through the torn fabric. The scent of her blood hit the air, and beneath it was that same otherworldly sweetness I'd tasted that night on the boat.
A slow smile curved my lips as I set down the case. "There. Injury sustained. The wager stands."
I turned to Celeste, who'd gone very still. "You're free to go. The terms have been met."
Damian moved immediately, helping Celeste to her feet, telling her to go, to leave now, to not look back. I watched Lirael's face as she tracked their progress—the relief that flooded her features, the guilt that followed. I catalogued it all, storing away every reaction, every emotion, every weakness.
"I'll come back for you," Damian said, meeting Lirael's eyes with an intensity that made something hot and violent twist in my gut.
The elevator doors closed, and then there was only Lirael and me, and the smell of her blood in the air.
"Come here," I said, shrugging out of my jacket and moving toward the medical kit. It wasn't a request. She came anyway, crossing to the sofa with measured steps that spoke to a will forged in hell.
I knelt beside the sofa and pulled out scissors, antiseptic, gauze. "Sit."
When she hesitated, I let my eyes flash gold. "Don't make me repeat myself, little moon."
She sat, her whole body tense. I cut away the blood-soaked fabric to expose the wound, and then I leaned in, my nose nearly touching the torn skin, and inhaled.
"Moon and starlight," I murmured, eyes closing as the scent filled my lungs. "Wild forests under a full moon. Midnight blooming flowers and ancient magic." I opened my eyes, letting her see the gold that had completely overtaken the amber. "I knew I wasn't wrong. I knew from the first moment I caught you that you were something special, something other."
"You're insane," she said, her voice hoarse.
"Perhaps," I agreed, reaching for the antiseptic. "But I'm your insane now. You made that choice the moment you stepped in front of that dartboard."
The antiseptic burned—I could tell from the sharp intake of breath, from the way her body went rigid. My hand came up to cup the back of her neck, my thumb stroking along her jaw.
"When?" she asked after a moment. "When did you figure it out?"
I began wrapping gauze around her shoulder. "Last night."
I leaned back slightly, watching understanding and horror war in her expression. "And then the way you looked at Celeste. So much guilt. So much responsibility. Like you'd put her in that position, like you'd asked her to take your place." My smile widened. "That girl is your stand-in, isn't she? You found someone willing to go back to me while you tried to build a new life."
She said nothing, which was answer enough.
"Clever," I said softly, rising and pulling her up with me, my hand closing around her wrist like an iron shackle. "So clever, little moon. But you care too much. That's always been your weakness."
I tugged her toward the elevator. "Come on. Game's over. Time to go home."
The private elevator descended in silence, my hand never leaving her wrist. I could feel her pulse hammering against my fingers, could smell the fear-sweat mixing with that intoxicating moon dew scent.
Marcus was waiting with the car. I pushed Lirael into the back seat and slid in after her. The door closed with a heavy thunk, and we were moving.
I captured both her wrists in one hand and pulled her against my side, my other arm pinning her in place, my leg pressing against hers. The privacy screen rose, and suddenly we were alone.
"Don't even think about trying to break the window," I said, leaning in to press my face against the curve of her throat. "They're bulletproof. You'd hurt yourself badly, and then I'd be angry."
I breathed her in, that intoxicating scent of moon dew and wild forests, and began to map her skin with my mouth. I kissed the pulse point beneath her jaw, felt it hammering frantically against my lips, and moved lower, trailing my mouth down the column of her throat to where it met her shoulder. My teeth grazed her skin, not hard enough to break it but enough to leave marks, enough to brand her as mine.
She went rigid against me, every muscle locked tight, and when I moved back up to capture her mouth, she turned her head sharply to the side.