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17

VEIL

I stare at Gemini’s proffered hand, his words humming in my head like some kind of eerie prophecy.

“We are mere pawns for the gods to play with.”

The unsettling feeling skitters down my spine and burrows itself deep into the pit of my stomach. So much has been left unsaid, and I fear I will suffocate under the sheer weight of it all.

How can this be happening?

How can I even trust anything coming out of Gemini Foley’s treacherous lips?

Lifting my eyes up to his, I rasp, “Who was that woman?”

Gemini’s eyes have softened ever since he finished smoking his joint, but his gaze still burns against my skin. I can practically hear it turn to crisp.

His voice is just as soft when he answers, “She’s the Oracle. She speaks directly to our gods.”

Well then …

Something inside of me, similar to my usual intuition yet so unfamiliar, tells me it’d be wise to believe the Oracle.

The seventh heir …

I can barely wrap my head around it, let alone accept it.

“I’d suggest you take my hand, love.” He wiggles his fingers. “It’s getting late, and I’m losing patience.”

A heavy sigh escapes me, followed by a sharp inhale when a small jolt of electricity zaps through my arm and down my body as I place my hand in his.

I know Gemini felt it, too, when I witness his bare chest break out into goose bumps. But he does nothing to let on that he felt it, simply pulling me up onto my feet.

When he turns, I get another good look at his sigil tattooed on his back.

Then something he mentioned in passing when he first brought me into the mannequin room comes back to me. “So many tattoos, and yet you’ve left your back unmarked.”

He was piecing his theory together even then. And he’s right; why have I left my back untouched when the rest of my body is covered with tattoos? I never did think much deeper about the meaning until now, and I always assumed I just hadn’t found the right design yet.

And what if, this whole time, I was listening to a subconscious desire to please my … my god?

“What does my sigil look like?” I blurt out as we step into the house.

Gemini swivels around, but doesn’t stop, now walking backward as his eyes narrow, studying me. “Why do you think I knew your god was the god of thievery?”

His question to my own confuses me.

“Petty theft?” I respond with suspicion, having a feeling it is the wrong answer.

Gemini lifts his lips, as if amused, but shakes his head. “Like I said, that was just one of the reasons. But!” he says, pointing his finger in the air and turning back around so as not to walk straight into the couch. “The quest to my answer was much simpler. I just had to look to the city where my pretty, petty thief had come from.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

“You never stopped to wonder why Pravitia has six ruling families and Corutio has seven?”

I stay quiet, mulling over what he just said as we step into the hallway. “Keeping up with the ruling class has never been my top priority, whether it be here or back in Corutio.”

Gemini chuckles, and I roll my eyes at his inability to ever be serious.

I wait for him to continue his explanation, but I’m distracted by something a lot more pressing.

I stop dead in my tracks. “We’ve passed my room,” I state with the most authority I can muster while my heart has shot up to my throat.

“Indeed we did, doll. Indeed we did,” Gemini says over his shoulder, his darkening voice slowly curling over every word.

I stare in horror as he strolls into his bedroom. My eyes blur with the sheer volume of thoughts clamoring in my head.

“I should no longer be your captive,” I say with ire.

I’m still fighting against the fear lingering inside of me, but I can’t deny the fire that lit up in my stomach when the Oracle declared me the seventh heir.

A tense silence falls between us while Gemini casually turns to face me. My heart triples in rate. His eyebrow lifts with arrogance as he watches me from inside his bedroom. The black eyeliner seems to only intensify the blue and green hues of his mismatched eyes.

“Is that so?” he finally asks.

Feeling like the rug is being slid right out from under me, I nonetheless try to stand my ground and cross my arms, aiming my hard glare directly at Gemini.

“I’m the seventh heir of Pravitia.” My voice cracks when I say heir , and I internally cringe. “You should treat me as such.”

Gemini’s dark chuckle prickles over my skin, and I feel it reverberate low in my stomach. “You might be the long-lost heir, Veil Vulturine. But you are still mine to keep.” He says the last sentence so flippantly, so matter-of-factly, practically dismissing me as he swivels on his heel, turning his back to me. I hear his mocking laugh, even from the hallway. “Besides, who would believe you, doll, if you told them you were an heir?”

Indignation rises up my throat like bile, and I see red. My rational thoughts shatter, and before I even realize what I’m doing, I’m charging at Gemini like an enraged bull.

I hardly recognize the snarl I hear emanating from my lips as I grab a handful of his hair. I somehow manage to make him lose his balance, his body pitching backward to the ground. Before he has time to react, I leap on top of him, trying not to lose momentum, my fists raining down on his face.

I land a few blows before my crazed haze is pierced by Gemini laughing. I freeze, one tight fist still pulled backward, hovering in the air, my other hand digging into the side of his neck.

His arms are loosely flung over his head, revealing the intricate spiderweb tattoos on his shaved armpits. He appears far too casual for someone who now has a split lip.

My heated scrutiny of his body only lasts a few heart-pounding moments, but the seconds seem to stretch on forever as I take him in. The way his laughter crinkles the thin skin beside his eyes, making two perfect dimples appear on his cheeks. Or the pull of the thin scar over his left eye with the expressive dip of his eyebrows.

My gaze slides to his mouth. The blood from his lip has seeped between his teeth, turning his smile bloody and hauntingly demented.

I suddenly become painfully aware that I’m straddling him with only my panties separating me from the bare skin of his stomach.

My distraction only lasts a few hurried breaths, but Gemini is so fast that I don’t see his counterattack coming. His hands fly to my arms, and he flips us with a smooth hook of his leg over mine. My back slams to the ground, and the wind is nearly knocked out of me as Gemini’s hips gracefully undulate over mine before pinning me under him.

“There she is,” he rasps while his left hand grips both my wrists over my head. The colors of his eyes are now just a sliver compared to the black of his blown-out pupils.

The silence is decadent as I watch his tongue dip out to trail across his bottom lip. The urge to fight him has evaporated, replaced by a much more carnal urge, and I internally recoil at the feeling.

“You can fight me all you want, pet. In fact,” he says, giving his hips a quick little thrust forward, “I rather enjoy this side of you.”

I’m then made aware of his hard length between my legs, and I can feel the second my panties grow damp with his gentle rocking.

My heart pounds loudly in my ears, and the realization makes me want to avoid his gaze altogether. But I don’t. I can’t seem to rip my eyes away from him.

Not when his smoldering eyes overwhelm me with a hunger that I would rather not name.

Using his free hand, he walks two fingers up my stomach, his attention now on his hand moving up my torso.

“Do you think it’s a coincidence I found you?” His voice is but a whisper, and my nape tingles at the sound. His eyes flit to mine, then back down. His fingers continue their tantalizing trek up my body. “Tell me, Veil Vulturine …” His gaze is back on mine, his eyes now as black as night. “Why would the gods make you my sacrifice if it meant”—his hand reaches my neck, his fingers slowly and deliberately circling my throat before applying the smallest pressure—“nothing?”

“Spoiled brat,” I spit, my lips curling into a snarl. “I am not a thing for you to keep locked away. You can play house as much as your black heart desires, but I will never truly be yours.”

My words hang between us. My heart drumming erratically against my chest, I wait for him to react. I swallow hard, his palm still clasped around my neck.

His brows lift in surprise, but he quickly grows serious, studying me while his body heat pulses through me like toxic radio waves. Then he laughs, and the burning urge to spit in his face consumes me.

But before I can fathom doing such a thing, he pushes himself off me and says, “Want to bet, love?”

Hastily getting back onto my feet, I stare him down, my body buzzing with adrenaline. “I’m sleeping on the couch.”

I barely turn around before he pulls my back against his hard chest. His hand winds around my hair and tugs hard so that my head falls back onto his shoulder, and I hiss at the sting.

His mouth feathers my ear before he whispers, “Your little ragtag crew has been causing quite the stir in the neighborhood since you disappeared. Shame if something happened to them.” His nose trails up and down my extended neck, and I break out into goose bumps. “Get in bed, pet.”

My breathing stutters at the thought of me being the cause of my friends’ deaths, and the humorless chuckle he lets free tells me he knows he has me backed into a corner.

There’s nothing I can do—for now.

I must accept my fate and share a bed with a poisonous snake.