Page 83 of Forbidden Empire

When she looked at me, her pupils were blown wide, emerald, just a thin ring around black. The kind of gaze that devoured. The kind I recognized in the mirror.

"This means we can move, right?"

I stepped in, close enough to feel her heat, close enough that when my fingers brushed hers, a jolt shot straight through me, wild and electrifying.

"Fuck yes." The words scraped out, raw. "And this time, we end it on our terms."

She didn't smile, not a true smile. Her lips parted, teeth flashing, a predator’s promise. Blood thundered in my veins as she leaned in, gunpowder and expensive perfume swirling around me, dizzying.

"Then let's get to work."

She bent back over the table, neck exposed, skin begging for teeth or protection.

Both.

The urge hit so hard it ached: to guard her, to devour her, to build her an empire or tear the world down for her.

Whatever tangled, savage thing thrashed between us, it was here to stay. And so was she.

Eighteen

ESME

My skin buzzed, like I’d been plugged into a socket, every nerve on. My fingers wouldn’t stop drumming on the window.

Tap-tap-tap.

Like they had somewhere to go but nowhere to be.

But my lungs? Crushed.

Like someone poured concrete in my chest, breaths came short and fast.

Rhea’s voice ran circles in my skull. “I’ll peel the skin from your pretty face.”

And then there was Aidon, with his stare, all sharp edges and want.

This war we were about to start… Vegas would be picking up bodies for days.

I paced Aidon’s bedroom, back and forth, five steps, turn, five steps back.

I’d worn a path in the carpet by now. Forty stories down, the Strip threw neon everywhere, a river of lights and trouble under our feet.

Cars crawled. People scurried around, clueless. No one had a clue about the blood that was coming.

“Fuck this waiting,” I muttered, leaning into the window.

The glass was cold against my skin. My reflection stared back at me, eyes gone dark, face all angles. I didn’t even look like myself. I needed to move. Hunt. Get my hands around Rhea’s throat.

And after? When Rhea was dead, and Zeno was dealt with? What then?

I’d slept in Aidon’s bed, plotted with him, tangled up in every way possible. Hatred and lust. That was what we had. But when our enemies were gone, what the hell would be left?

The air changed behind me. Sandalwood and gunmetal. The sound of expensive shoes on marble. I didn’t turn. I already knew who it was.

Aidon’s reflection lined up beside mine in the glass. His jaw set so hard I could practically hear the crack. “You haven’t said a word since last night.”

I pivoted, shoulder blades digging into the icy window. That muscle in his jaw wouldn’t quit. His eyes were all steel, but under it, something flickered—a split-second of doubt he’d never admit to.