Page 18

Barbara

I must have swayed on my feet, because Phantom was suddenly by my side, steadily gripping my elbow. My mother gave me a long look, pitying and angry, before she huffed and shook her head.

“Do you see what you make me do? I wanted to give you the happy news with a toast of champagne, but you had to disappoint me again. Oh, well. I’ll give you time to compose yourself and you can meet him in half an hour. Pity you didn’t wear those shoes, you’ll look ridiculous waltzing with him. Adonis is quite tall.”

With that, she left, her heels clicking on the marble. Phantom still stood right behind me, his body a shield I desperately wanted to lean on.

“Let’s go out. No one’s on the balcony right now,” he murmured in my ear, gently leading me along the edge of the ballroom to the nearest door.

I let him guide me without a word, my mind a void filled with the white fog of panic. I couldn’t gather my thoughts from their scattered terror. My body felt alien, my every step jarring, Phantom’s touch like an itch.

“Here.”

He left me leaning against the cold wall outside while he gently closed the door. The balcony looked out on the green grounds at the back of the hotel and was low enough that I could probably jump off without hurting myself.

Phantom’s face swung into view, obscuring the lantern-lit gardens swimming before my eyes. His proximity shot through my panic, making me a bit more aware. I hugged myself, shivering hard when the cold of the wall at my back registered.

“Breathe,” he said in a low murmur. “Take a deep breath for me, okay?”

I did as he said. Following directions was the easiest way to deal with difficult emotions. It had always been due to my conditioning. As long as I did what I was told, everything was perfect. My mother smiled, chatted with me, was happy. She told me I was good.

Now, I craved clear directions. I didn’t know what to do with myself. Every time I made my own choices, I turned out to be a failure.

It’s just a dress. A stupid dress. Does it really matter so much?

My heart hammered. I felt sick to my stomach, and my brain kept trying to find logic in my reaction. All my mother did was criticize my outfit and tell me I would meet my fiancé, which I had always known would happen sooner or later.

Why did I overreact like that?

“It’s crazy,” I mumbled, my voice scratching my tight throat. “I’m crazy.”

“Another breath, doll. You’re doing so well.”

I obeyed, something hot melting the numbness in my chest. He nodded, his eyes glowing softly silver.

“Good girl. Take another breath.”

But I shook my head. “No. Stop. This is… Stop praising me. I don’t deserve it.”

I gripped my arms hard, shielding myself from this desperate craving that clawed at my insides. God, I needed his kind words, but it was so pathetic. How could I be so dependent on another person’s opinion of me?

It was enough that I let myself get completely wrecked after just a few words from my mother.

I was supposed to be strong, independent, to break out of this cycle. Instead, I had this sudden desire to sit at Phantom’s feet, have him pet my hair and tell me good things. That image and that need were so powerful, I had to bite the inside of my lip to keep myself from asking for it.

Wanting such a thing made me weak. Even worse, it probably made me depraved.

“Oh yeah?” Phantom asked, his eye sockets flashing red for a moment so brief, I thought my eyes deceived me. “You just told me a big, fat lie, doll. It’s a lie that you don’t deserve good words. Just like everything your fu… your horrible mother said was a lie. You deserve all that’s good. You’re perfect, and you look gorgeous.”

I stared at him, my lips parted in confusion. He spoke with such vehemence, it took me aback. I had no idea where it came from.

“Well, one thing she said was definitely true, though,” I muttered, shivering again while a cold ball of icy fear lodged deep in my guts. “I’ll have to meet him. This… this man.”

I couldn’t bring myself to speak his ridiculous name out loud. Who even named their son Adonis ? And why didn’t I know anything about him? The name was so unusual, it should have rang a bell.

“Not necessarily,” Phantom said with an eerie smile. “Say a word and I’ll make him disappear.”

I laughed weakly, though his joke didn’t lift my spirits. I dreaded meeting Adonis. And I couldn’t believe my mother had sprung this on me without warning. It was cruel beyond comprehension.

“Don’t laugh,” Phantom said, stepping closer until we almost touched. I was trapped between him and the wall. “I’m serious. I’ll get rid of him.”

“That’s kind of you ,” I said, shaking my head with a faint smile at his joke. “But, no. I have to somehow… Somehow get out of this. On my own.”

“So you don’t want to marry this guy?” he asked, his voice low and insistent.

I took a deep breath and relaxed my palms. They were chilled with cold sweat.

“No. Of course not. I don’t even know him, and even if I did… I’d never agree to this. They probably only chose him because our genes match or whatever. My mother wants to breed me into a superior race or something. It’s sick.”

Phantom pulled away from me, his face losing its grotesque skull grin completely for the first time since I met him. I stared, unsettled by the sudden change. A skull wearing a severe expression was a thousand times creepier than a grinning one, but then, this was Phantom. He didn’t creep me out.

“Are you all right?” I asked.

He nodded sharply, his eyes flashing red. His voice was unnaturally calm. “Take your time. We’ll go inside when you’re ready.”

I rubbed my arms with a sigh. Honestly, I didn’t want to get back in there. My face hurt from smiling, and I had no desire to talk to anyone at the gala. None of those people were truly my friends. Some were allies at best.

“You’re cold,” Phantom said in that same eerily calm voice. “I didn’t bring my jacket.”

I shrugged, shivering. “No, that’s okay. I can’t keep taking your clothes. I’m fine.”

He looked at me for a moment and then shook his head. “But I’m not.”

I heard a series of rapid clicks, similar to those he emitted when he removed his armor from his palms. At the same time, something moved under his tight shirt, the clicking growing faster while his chest, his arms, and his stomach rippled in small waves, as if some living creatures slithered under his clothes.

“You’re not crazy. I am,” he whispered hoarsely when the clicking stopped.

Before I had time to answer, he put his arms around me, pressing me to his chest. I gasped at his audacity, and then gasped again, because he was so warm . I remembered how he’d felt before, cold and hard to the touch. This was completely different. It felt… It felt like touching a man.

“Did you… You’re not armored.”

“Mhm,” he murmured, his throat vibrating against the side of my head. “Are your hands cold? You can put them under my shirt. Here.”

He reached back to yank his shirt out of the waistband of his pants. I opened my mouth to reply but released only a hoarse, meaningless sound. When he’d embraced me, I put my arms around his middle, and his skin burned my palms even through his clothes.

I was hot all over, but not just because he held me. It was a different kind of heat, and it felt like it seared my thoughts into nothing.

Hesitantly, feeling a bit like I was drunk, I slid my hands lower down his sides, caressing the hot, male muscles that flexed under my touch. I lowered my palms until my pinkies grazed his belt and reached back, slowly, tentatively, sliding my hands under his shirt.

We both gasped at the same time, both with violent shivers.

“So cold,” he hissed. “Keep them there. That’s a good girl.”

“I’m not good,” I protested in a hot whisper, shivering again, because his skin was so hot and smooth, and God, this felt good and forbidden. I’d touched boys when I was younger, but it dawned on me now that I’d never touched a man.

He was a man. He was strong and corded with muscle, he smelled of smoke and cologne, and that scent, which must have been mostly trapped under his armor, enveloped me whole now that it was released together with his body heat.

When I ran my fingers closer to the center, still low on his back, I jolted when they encountered a hard, raised line of armored plates running down his spine. So this was where his armor went.

“You’re my good girl, then,” he murmured, sending shivers down my spine. “Let me say this, doll. Let me do this just for a moment. We’ll forget it happened after we’re done, okay? But for now, I’ll hold you.”

I shook my head helplessly, not really understanding. It felt so good, so indecently intimate, and all his jokes flashed through my mind, a crazy thought tingling the ends of my synapses in temptation. What if… What if they weren’t jokes? What if he really meant it? What if he wanted me?

With a sudden burst of determination, I pressed closer, pushing myself into him. He gasped, his hand sliding to my hip to hold me there. I felt his arousal, hard and unmistakable against the front of my hip.

“You’re hard,” I gasped, my head spinning.

“I told you, doll,” he said, nuzzling my hair with his bony face. “That’s what happens when a man is attracted to someone. You’re my someone.”

I released a shaky breath, tentatively running my palms up his back. Where his lower ribs started, I found more lines of stacked plates, not as protruding as the one on his spine but still prominent. They overlaid his ribs.

He grunted, flexing his hips until he bucked into me, and I explored him further with trembling fingers. The expanse of his back was intoxicating. So broad and strong, corded with muscle and hot to the touch, it was like art. I longed to see it stretched out on my bed. That thought seared me, and I whimpered softly, pressing into him. Need coiled in my lower belly, arousal so hot and insistent, I had no idea what to do with it.

“I know I can’t have you for myself,” he murmured into my hair. “But at least you won’t get married yet. I’m not sure I could stand to see you married. I’d probably kill him, and then you’d hate me. I still want to kill him, even now, and your mother, too, for forcing you to do things you hate. So hold me. Hold me so I don’t slaughter everyone in your life and make you despise me.”

This didn’t sound like a joke. I sensed he was perfectly serious, and violent shivers tumbled down my back. Should I be scared? I wasn’t. All I felt was gratitude and want that grew hotter with every breath, as if the oxygen I inhaled fed the fire between my legs.

“Okay. I’ll hold you, and you hold me,” I said, because it was the only thing I knew for certain: I wanted this moment to last as long as it could. Until morning, if possible.

“See? You are a good girl,” he murmured. “But I’m bad, doll. All I want is to bend you over that balustrade and rail you until you scream. I bet paparazzi would rush here and take pictures, and it wouldn’t make me stop. I’d keep going until both you and I came hard. And the whole world would see you belong to me, even if just for a few minutes.”

I swallowed with difficulty, my legs shaking. His words were at once terrifying and thrilling. His hardness pressing into my skin made it all the more real, and when he rolled his hips with a grunt, humping me shamelessly, I couldn’t hold back an eager moan.

“And you like it,” he whispered in awe. “My good, innocent princess likes my filth, eh? Baby, you got me so bad, I’ll come in my pants just from doing this.”

He rocked into me, his hand sliding to my ass to hold me in place. I was dizzy from his proximity. When he hissed, pressing into me hard, I realized my nails were digging into his back.

“This won’t do,” he grunted, turning me fast.

I gasped harshly when he grabbed me from behind, one hand squeezing my breast, the other diving under my dress until his hot fingers brushed my inner thighs. I gasped in shock and went rigid. He froze, too, his breathing loud in the cool night air as he held me in his possessive embrace

“Too much?” he asked, sliding his hand off my breast.

I shook my head. “N-no. It’s just… More than I’ve ever done before.”

He was still for a moment then laughed quietly, straightening. He let go of the hem of my dress and turned me again, gently this time. His arms went around me, and he laid his hand on the back of my head, pressing my face to his bare throat. His pulse jumped frantically under his hot skin.

“See?” he murmured. “I knew this would happen. I don’t know what I am anymore. You broke me. I’m chivalrous now.”

He said it with utter disgust, as if chivalry was something to be deeply ashamed of. I shivered wildly in his arms, the heat in my belly twisting with need. I cursed myself for reacting like that. If only I hadn’t, his hand would be between my legs now. God, how I wanted it.

“Don’t be chivalrous,” I choked out. “Please. I really want you to…”

“Shh. It’s okay,” he said with a quiet laugh that sounded rather melancholy. “I’m not a monster. I won’t despoil you for others just because I can’t have you for myself.”

“Despoil,” I repeated with a frown, my lust turning into anger. “What do you mean by that? I’m not a… a thing that will get dirty.”

“No, you’re not,” he agreed easily. “But I won’t drag you into filth with me. There. Are you all warm? Do you want to get back inside? Or do you want to get those burgers?”

I pushed him away, or at least, tried to. Phantom didn’t even budge, no matter how hard I tried to get out of his hold, until finally, he sighed and let his arms fall, taking a step back. I glared at him, and he cocked his head to the side, his eyes glowing pink. For a moment, I thought it was a reflection from my dress, but no. It was a distinct pink glow in his eye sockets.

“You don’t get to decide for me,” I hissed furiously, feeling ridiculously betrayed.

It was obvious what was happening. He wanted me, I wanted him, but he decided somehow that it wouldn’t be good for me, so he pulled away. I hated that he felt entitled to make that decision. It would have been one thing if he didn’t want me, but he did, and it was such an injustice that he wouldn’t act on it out of misguided scruples .

“For you, no,” he said. “But for myself, absolutely. I won’t have you on my conscience.”

So now he had a conscience?!

I wanted to stomp with fury but stopped myself for fear of breaking my heel.

“You’re no different than my mother, then,” I said, my voice shaking from anger. “She makes all my decisions for me because she thinks I will only make the wrong ones.”

I turned to the door, took a deep breath, and braced myself. At least I was furious enough to give few fucks about what happened next. Because I was done letting other people decide for me. It was over. Finito. I would tell my hapless fiancé I had no interest in marrying him, and I’d tell my mother I was going to move out as soon as the mind manipulator threat was over.