Page 49

He snatches up my marble and strides toward me. My knees knock with each step he takes. Then he’s in my face, my chin in his hand. Those distracting fingers dig in, holding my attention on him and only him.

Where else would it be?

“You think a little violence will wake up the magic in you?” His voice scrapes beneath the surface of my skin. His fingers pinch tighter.

I pull away, breathing hard. “Maybe I’ll like the sight of your blood as much as you like mine.”

“Maybe so, but no one sees me bleed.” He hands me the marble. “Again.”

I’m motionless, marble in one hand, slingshot in the other.

“Now.” His command hammers through me.

I startle and move into position, arm out, sling pocket filled.

Eli signals to Milo and Sypher across the clearing. “Stay there.”

He swoops in behind me like a cold shadow. I stiffen under his touch. He stretches his right arm over mine, a tingling trail of chills sliding down from shoulder to hand. His left arm follows my bent elbow. His fingers stroll until they ripple over my muddy rings, the sling in my grasp.

My hands disappear under his. He clamps down on them. I whimper at the tightness of his grasp, the seductive pain. The faint sound gets lost in the air whipping around us. The rub ofthe wood burns. The sling smashes into the creases of my palm, my own nails piercing my skin.

His hips and chest press into my back, blocking all the wind from behind. Each marble packed into the pockets across his chest digs into me. His legs spread outside of mine, bumping against the ankle cuffs. His grip unrelenting, he pulls my hand back, stretching the sling into position. The vines whine in my ear.

I stop breathing when he tucks his head in next to mine. The billowing clouds drop again, surrounding us in a mist and trapping me in his scent—the cool, damp air of an endless cave.

“You’re a lefty too,” he whispers, his words crawling down my spine, his fingers pressing harder.

I tighten every muscle to keep myself from shivering against him.

“I’m both,” I croak.

He adjusts my aim, the marble’s path settling on Milo.No. I try to redirect, but his arms are solid over mine.

“What?” he purrs into my ear. “It’s only me you want to hurt?”

Fuck. That voice. “You have no idea how much.”

His chin nuzzles roughly into my neck. “Then what are you waiting for?”

“Are youaskingme to knee you in the balls again?”

“Is that the only part of me you think about?”

“Basically.” A cold sweat consumes me, my body torn between the fiery rage within and the icy wind against my skin. Metal coats my tongue. “Let go of me.”

“I wish I could, but you’re a little nightmare that I can’t escape—your hair smells like old blood and you’re covered in mud, and somehow I want to throw you down, mark you all over and add to the fucking mess.”

“Not interested,” I grind out, breathing through my twisted desire.

“Even better.” His hiss floats past my ear, his body pressing closer.

I grunt and fight against his hold on me. It only tightens, veins roping over the backs of his hands.

“On three,” he says, cheek pressed to mine.

“One.”

I shake my head, his rough stubble scraping my skin.“Stop. Not at Milo.”