Page 22 of Eternal Ruin

Susenyos stood three paces behind Kidan, in the weeds of Adane House’s garden, restricting his breathing. He could hear the old door creaking with the wind. The gentle sounds of Etete baking his favorite bread—ambasha.

But most importantly, his ears didn’t pick up the presence of his old friend. Samson was not here.

They had arrived moments ago, and all was quiet. Good.

He didn’t want an audience for what he planned to do.

Kidan stopped and turned to face him. The afternoon sun fell behind her, drenching her brown skin and blurring the edges of her determined eyes. He wondered why he was always cursed to find the things that harmed him most—beautiful.

But this wasn’t the moment to appreciate his companion’s beauty.

In a flash, Susenyos pushed Kidan against the ancient weeping willow tree, the floor-length vines guarding them from the outside world. His hand closed around her neck, around her tie, a circle of red igniting in his vision. Her breath hitched sharply at the sudden contact.

“Barely a week, and you’re already turning on me. Maybe I should kill you right here.”

Susenyos knew the scent of her fear, had tasted it the day he pulled out Titus Levigne’s spine. Sour, tinged with ash. He waited for it with equal measure of pleasure and apprehension, half expecting her to bolt.

Though she treated him with caution, there was too much bravery in her gaze. With each second he remained still, her eyes sparked with confidence, almost trust. Trust he wouldn’t hurt her and underneath that trust… frustrating desire. And God help him, he liked it.

He’d been the object of her hatred for too long. It’d sustained him for a while, burning like ocean ice. But what he longed for now was something dangerous, something she didn’t offer anyone because her very soul was bound to it.

“You’re loyal to me.” Susenyos tried to avoid breathing in her dizzying scent as he spoke—night oak and crushed Abyssinian rose. “Say it.”

Kidan’s eyes lightened at the words. “But you’re the one who needs me.”

He growled, sensing her grasp for more power. “I’m not signing the house over to you.”

“The house is rightfully mine.”

“Is it?” he countered. “Your familychoseme. You ambushed me. You should have discussed it with me first.”

“I tried. You said no.”

His laughter was clipped. “So you decided for me?”

Kidan paused for a second, lifting her lashes. “I had no other choice. They were going to vote for Adane House to become aBorderHouse.”

His nostrils flared. Dean Faris was a calculating witch. But that wasn’t what frustrated him. It was Kidan’s words, the caging nature of them.

You’re the one who needs me.

“I don’t need anyone,” Susenyos said, his fangs pulsing with hunger. The longer he spent in her presence the harder it was to deny himself of her. “I can tell you what I want, though. Iwantto trust you. To go for one week without seeing you as my enemy. I want to destroy the people threatening us without your impulsive actions ruining us. I want you to do as you’re told and change the house law. Return what was stolen from me. Be a good little bird. Can you do that for me?”

Like he knew they would, holy flames roared to life in her gaze.

“Are you done?” she bit back. “Can I tell you whatIwant?”

Susenyos nearly smiled, studying her dangerous mouth as she tore him into pieces. To go to hell first. To return her gun second. To help her kill Samson third.

Had it really been only a few days they’d been apart? Susenyos rarely felt the strangle of time. It was an inconvenience he’d shed long ago, yet he’d been aware of every second this past week. As if he were human again, bound to the great clock. A truly disconcerting thought.

“Are you listening?” she asked, frowning. “Why are you smiling—”

He touched her where he most wanted to—her lips. She stuttered a breath, her cascading words cut at once, chest rising and falling. His thumb pressed on her mouth, its warmth bleeding into him. His eyes flicked up, catching the swift shift of alarm and desire at war on her face. A soft blush spread along her earthy-brown skin. The blood vessels beneath the thin layer of her lips pumping.

This, he thought.This is how it should feel when we touch. Every sense electrified.

Earlier, when she’d brushed his cheek in the hallway, it had felt wrong. Both numb yet horribly invasive. Like he was a raw nerve, flayed bone to muscle.