Page 26 of Cruelly Fated (Princes of Avari #1)

Twenty-Two

ALLIE

T his will never work…

I peered at Kyon’s profile as he drove his brother’s luxury car back to the penthouse after carrying me down the mountain to the underground garage and carefully settling me into the passenger seat.

He and I were of different breeds: his, high and polished society; mine, the back alleys of Avari.

The only thing we seemed to share was the ever-present shadow of danger.

He’d been the cause of much danger, feared as his father’s enforcer, so he never truly fit the mold of a pampered elite.

But blood ties were blood ties—unshakable, whether we embraced them or not.

Kyon lifted a quizzical brow in response to my studying him, without even glancing at me.

So like him. A small smile tugged at the corners of my mouth.

I was still riding the high from our encounter, but whatever was happening between us wouldn’t—couldn’t—last. I bit my lower lip and turned to look out the side window.

The grand mansions soon gave way to suburbs, apartment blocks, and soon the busiest, most sought-after area of Avari—the Plaza.

“I can walk,” I assured him when he pulled into his parking spot—well, one of them. But as I swung my legs out the door, he was already there. Silent and unmoved by my protests. My cheeks puffed with hot air, and I exhaled it over his shoulder.

With him acting all chivalrous and refusing to keep his hands off me, it only made it harder to distance myself from him and protect myself.

His scent… I hadn’t noticed it during the illusions.

I inhaled again. Smoke and scorched earth, laced with the faintest trace of worn leather and heat like he’d been forged, not born.

The unique fragrance clung to my nostrils and tickled them with every reckless heartbeat.

A low rumble reverberated through him, one I could only interpret as approval of me sniffing him. I winced, cheeks heating in embarrassment, even though the silly act didn’t come close to what we’d done in that cave.

Kyon strode into the bathroom and set me gently on my feet before turning the knobs on the claw-foot tub.

Steamy water cascaded out of the faucet.

He retrieved a jar of salts from the cabinet and scattered a generous handful into the rising steam.

Patchouli and sea salt perfumed the air.

Once he returned the jar and completed his self-assigned tasks, his dangerous gaze swung my way.

Kyon stalked forward, all business, his brows drawn low.

He undid the front of my shirt, revealing the low-cut bra—part of my costume.

I stilled, unsure of his intent. My chest rose, breasts swelling under his scrutiny.

He skimmed a thumb over the top of one, and heat coiled through me.

We’d skipped much of the second base earlier, and now my body craved his full attention. Traitorous thing.

He pulled away, a fleeting smirk ghosting over his features. “I’ll leave you to it.”

As he rounded the corner, I blew out a heavy breath and let my head fall back against the wall. My legs turned to jelly again, having anticipated another round—this time in his top-of-the-world tub. We were playing with fire.

I peeled myself off the wall, shedding clothes to the floor. Beyond the glass wall, Avari glittered like a painting with blurred edges and too many colors bleeding together. The city that never slept.

I dipped my toes first, then climbed into the tub and slowly lowered myself into the steamy water. Patchouli hung heavy in the air. The heat seeped into my bones, easing the tautness in my muscles.

Towering buildings blinked with neon, and traffic far below formed glowing ribbons of movement. The soundproof glass dulled the noise to nothing. I closed my eyes for just a moment, letting the silence and sensation lull me.

I woke with a start, my body shivering. Cold water lapped at my skin. I must have dozed off. Splashing a handful of water over my face, I climbed out and wrapped myself in a towel soft as clouds.

The bedroom looked exactly how I’d left it this morning—sheets smoothed, not a pillow out of place. I peeked into the kitchen, where soft under-cabinet lights gave the space a warm, inviting glow.

Kyon was gone.

My stomach dipped with disappointment, and I frowned. What had I expected? That he’d be here waiting on me, ready to meet my every need? I rolled my eyes.

Wake up, girl. Men leave. They don’t hang around.

I slipped on my tank top and shorts and crawled under the blanket. With Kyon free now, I’d have to figure out a new place to stay. But that was a problem for tomorrow.

The mouthwatering smell of sizzling bacon wafted into the room, drifting right into my nostrils. I stretched lazily, then stilled, eyes flying open. High white ceiling, wall-sized windows overlooking the city… Shit!

I shot upright.

I peeked through the half-open barn door. Kyon stood shirtless at the stove, his back to me, muscles shifting and rippling as he worked with intent.

Where had he come from?

I scanned the expanse of the bed. No sign of anyone having slept beside me. Raking my hands through tangled hair, I tried to piece together the night. Had I misread everything? Was I supposed to leave?

“I hope you’re hungry.” Kyon’s deep baritone cut through the silence, jolting me fully awake.

My jaw dropped. Kyon faced me now, holding a plate in each hand—one piled with scrambled eggs, ketchup and all, the other stacked with perfectly crispy bacon. But the most scrumptious sight was him .

His tattoos sprawled across his chest, wrapping around his hard pecs—something I hadn’t had the presence of mind to admire last night.

His shoulders were broad enough to block the sun, muscles bulging around his neck like armor.

And those abs… Forget a six-pack. He had a twelve-pack that angled into a sharply cut V disappearing below the waistband.

Damn that kitchen island for blocking the rest .

I suspected he wore shorts but couldn’t stop myself from hoping he’d ditched clothes altogether. I mean, why get dressed when your bod is that of a god-tier barbarian? It should be illegal.

Kyon cleared his throat, eyebrow arched.

Right. He was offering me breakfast.

“I’m starving,” I said, except it came out like I was working a damn sex hotline. Ohmygod . Heat flooded my face, and I jumped out of bed, fumbling with the blanket in a fake attempt to make the bed, avoiding eye contact. Or rather, eye-to-body ogling.

Plates clinked against the counter. I drew a steadying breath and strolled into the kitchen.

Kyon had his back to me again, rummaging in the fridge.

I sighed, half disappointed, when I saw he wore low-slung black athletic shorts, the clingy kind that left little to the imagination but still teased enough to make me want more.

“In the back, to the left,” I said, then mentally kicked myself. Presumptuous much?

“How’d you know?” He shot me a curious glance.

I shrugged, playing it cool. “Just a guess… People like OJ with breakfast. And you didn’t make coffee, so…”

He spun toward me so fast. “Would you prefer coffee?”

I blinked. “No… OJ is perfect.”

He filled two glasses and slid one my way. Then he settled across from me at the island, loading my plate before serving himself. Fork in hand, he started eating with the intensity of a man who hadn’t had a real meal in days.

I watched him for a beat. His face, his shoulders, remembering the way my hands had roamed those same lines just hours ago. My fingers tightened around the fork. I needed to focus on something else before I got too carried away.

I swept my gaze around the penthouse, taking in the view of the Plaza glowing in the soft blush of morning. Gorgeous. I could get used to waking up to this.

Then my eyes landed on the couch. A pillow and a deep blue sheet lay tossed over it like someone had spent the night there.

“You slept here?” I asked, bewildered. I hadn’t even thought to check the living room last night before I passed out. I’d been convinced he’d left.

A corner of his mouth lifted. “It’s my apartment, isn’t it?”

“Yes, but…” I swallowed, suddenly realizing I might’ve made a huge mistake accepting his offer to help with my housing situation a few days ago. “I thought you didn’t stay here.”

“This is my primary residence.”

“But the place feels so sterile. There is nothing here that says the space is lived in.”

He paused mid-chew, then leveled a mildly confused gaze at me. “Ouch?”

I slapped a hand over my mouth. “Sorry, I didn’t mean it like that…” I bit my lip. Way to open your mouth and insult your host .

“I guess I’m a minimalist,” he said after a beat, his brows drawing together in quiet reflection. “I was raised in a lavish lifestyle. None of it ever made me happy.”

Oh… I pinched my lips. I thought the dragon prince was all abs and arrogance. But every time he spoke, Kyon drifted further from the image of a self-indulgent billionaire to that of a man simply chasing something real. He was still a billionaire, sure… Just not the kind I’d imagined.

I chewed a few more bites of food, which was prepared exactly how I liked it. Kyon polished his plate within a minute like he hadn’t properly eaten in weeks. Based on Grandpa’s description of prison food, he probably hadn’t.

I nudged my plate toward him.

“I’m full,” I said.

He huffed softly through his nose, the corner of his mouth twitching into a small smile, then finished off my food in a few large bites.

I slid off the stool. “I’ll pack my things.”

“Why?” His brows pinched together into an angry V.

“You live here?” It came out as a question. “I can’t stay.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m no longer a guest here?”

Kyon’s lips thinned. “I’ll find a new place for me.”

What? My eyes widened.

“No, you can’t. This is your place. You’re staying, I’m going.” My breathing quickened.

Kyon crossed his ink-covered arms across his buff chest. “I’ll stay if you stay.”

“Fine. Wait—” I blinked, shaking my head. This conversation was getting away from me.

“It’s settled then.” He turned, ending the discussion with maddening finality.

With his back to me, he set the frying pans in the sink, ran the water, and began scrubbing.

Why was he washing dishes himself? Surely a cleaning service was included.

The ripple of his muscles beneath that inked skin stole the last of my thoughts. For just a moment, I could only watch.

“Is Old Pete expecting you?” Kyon asked.

I glanced at the microwave clock. He was right. I needed to hit the road if I wanted to make it on time. Especially with the extra stop I planned before seeing Grandpa today.

When I didn’t answer right away, Kyon turned slightly, pausing mid-rinse to glance over his shoulder.

“This conversation isn’t over,” I said, steadying my voice and leveling him with a look that dared him to disagree.

His dimple dug deeper. He faced the sink again, nodding once, unbothered. The casual confidence in the gesture stoked a warm flutter low in my belly. Smug bastard. A part of me liked that he wanted me here.

Problem—one bed.

Another problem—a hot billionaire dragon in the same room.

I pinched my lips and hopped down. I got dressed in record time, then rushed to the elevator.

Tossing my braid over one shoulder, I slung my backpack over the other, all while stealing glances at him when he wasn’t looking.

Although I was fairly certain he had caught me checking him out.

Oh, well. I stepped into the elevator and turned around.

Before the door cinched closed, our gazes connected.

He leaned his hip against the kitchen island, a dish towel tossed over one shoulder, and my confused heart stumbled.