Page 18 of Illusory (The Marked Saga #8)

After scrubbing the dried blood and dog drool off my body, I spent the next twenty minutes standing under the running hot water, going over everything that had happened with Dominic tonight as I relived all the ways I had humiliated myself. I’d gone from feeling ashamed to confused to pissed right the fuck off all in the span of thirty minutes before finally calming down enough to see it all for what it really was.

He just didn’t want me anymore.

I wasn’t sure how I had missed it. It seemed so obvious now that I was looking at it without my rose-colored glasses. His feelings for me had changed. I wasn’t sure when it happened, or why it happened, but it did. Maybe it was some long-term symptom of having his emotions shut off by his sire, or maybe it was because of the wings and all the fucked-up things they represented for me.

Or maybe I just wasn’t worth the trouble anymore.

Either way, it really didn’t matter what the reason was. It wouldn’t change anything. It wouldn’t make it easier for me to digest. Obsessing over the ‘why’ would only prolong the inevitable and keep me trapped in a perpetual state of denial. A state that would have me throwing myself at a man who clearly didn’t want me anymore.

And I’d be damned if I did that twice.

I’d thought that there was still hope for us—a chance that he still cared when he came back for me tonight, but he’d made it perfectly clear that I was gravely mistaken.

Turning off the water, I stepped out of the shower and quickly dried off before changing into the clothes Dominic had set out on the bathroom counter. Despite the asshole’s kind gesture, I was dead set on keeping the ice firmly set around my heart. Because if I was mad at him, then I wouldn’t have to feel the other things I was feeling, like pain and sorrow and rejection, and that was a much easier emotion for me to live with than the alternative ones.

Standing at the mirror, I towel-dried my hair and then twisted it back into a messy French braid, hoping it would finish drying overnight and produce something moderately cute in the morning. I may have felt like absolute garbage on the inside, but that didn’t mean I had to look like it on the outside too.

Throwing one last glance at myself in the mirror, I opened the bathroom door and then paused in the doorway. My gaze landed heavy on Dominic, surprised to find him still in my room, sitting leisurely in the leather armchair with a drink in his hand like he planned on sticking around for a while.

The surprise, however, was short-lived and quickly melted away only to leave annoyance in its place. “Why are you still here?” I bit out, instantly angered by the sight of him. I’d made so much progress in the bathroom with all my healthy self-talk and newfound resolve, and now here he was ruining the whole thing.

“I had Isa prepare you something to eat,” he said, gesturing to the plate on my nightstand as he brought his tumbler up to his lips and took a small sip, his intense eyes never leaving mine. “Steak and vegetables, grilled just the way you like them.”

I scoffed, unimpressed with his merry-go-round of bullshit. If he thought he was going to smooth things over with a measly plate of food, he had another thing coming. “How noble of you to compel her to do that for me. Let me run and see if I can find you a medal of honor somewhere,” I said caustically as I marched over to my bed without bothering to look at him or the plate of food.

“Angel—”

“Save it, Dominic,” I cut in before he could get another syllable out. “I’m not in the mood for your games tonight, or your stupid food, so you can just take them both with you on your way out,” I informed as I yanked the comforter back and then climbed into my bed, ready to fall into a coma and sleep this entire dreadful day away.

“You cannot properly heal if you don’t eat.”

“Really? Gosh, I had no idea,” I said with mock-surprise as I turned my back to him and then yanked the comforter up over my head. “Thank you for this brand-new information, ōsensei.”

He snorted into his glass, probably mid-sip, and I imagined him spilling his drink all over himself and ruining his precious hand-stitched shirt, and I smirked to myself.

Served him right.

“Close the lights on your way out,” I called out from under the blanket, fully satisfied with myself.

Silence pushed back at me before the sound of protesting leather filled the room and made my stomach coil with unexpected disappointment. I listened to his footfalls retreating as he walked over to the door and flicked off the light switch. My heart thrashed uncomfortably in my chest as I waited for him to open the door and leave, but all I heard was the sound of the lock clinking loudly, followed by his footsteps circling back around.

Was he still in my room?

The answer came in the form of the leather squawking again as he apparently retook his seat in the chair.

Confused, I pulled the comforter down from over my head and glanced over at the armchair. Dominic stared back at me, his face slightly illuminated from the small slit in the curtains as he brought his drink up to his lips and took a slow and deliberate sip.

“What the hell are you doing?” I asked, more curious than angry.

“What does it look like I’m doing?” he answered calmly as he set the glass down on the armrest and circled the rim of the glass with his finger, his eyes boring into mine.

“It looks like you’re still here.”

“That’s a very astute observation, angel.”

I pushed up on my elbows, my cheeks already flaming with heat. And not the good kind of heat. “ Why are you still here, Dominic?” I was fairly certain I’d made it clear that I wanted him out of my room. Not to mention, he couldn’t seem to get out of here fast enough forty minutes ago. So why the sudden holdup?

“I’m simply trying to enjoy my Scotch,” he answered and then raised his glass to me as if toasting to it.

“Well, can you go enjoy your Scotch somewhere else?”

“No.”

I gaped back at him. Was he serious right now?

It was bad enough that I had to live with the humiliation of his blatant rejection without him hanging around here to rub it in my face.

“Get the hell out of my room!” I shouted and then sucked in a sobering breath to reign myself back in. The last thing I needed was Tessa or Gabriel running in here to check on me. “I’m serious, Dominic. I’m not going to say it again,” I bit out through clenched teeth.

“You can say it as many times as you wish, angel. I’m not going anywhere.” He shifted in the chair as if to make himself more comfortable. “You might as well make peace with it and go to sleep.”

“Go to sleep?” I repeated it like he’d just suggested I perform a striptease for the neighborhood elders. “And what? You’re just going to sit there and watch me sleep all night?”

“Of course not. I may go back downstairs at some point to fix myself another drink.”

I blinked at him, utterly and completely flabbergasted.

Either I was as dumb as a doorknob, or he was deliberately screwing with me because none of this was making any sense to me. I narrowed my eyes. “Is this some kind of game you’re playing? Are you trying to rile me up on purpose? Is that it?”

“I’m not trying to do anything other than get you to go to sleep.”

“Then leave me the hell alone and I will!” I’d practically screamed the words out at him, but he didn’t so much as twitch a muscle at my outburst.

“Unfortunately, I cannot do that,” he stated evenly like there was no two ways about it. “It seems you are physically incapable of staying out of trouble when left to your own devices and since this house is filled with useless vagrants, I’m simply going to have to take the matter into my own hands.”

“The matter?” I jerked back, confused. “What matter? What the hell are you talking about?”

“I’m talking about the matter of keeping you safe and alive , angel. Do try to keep up, will you?” he said and then took another leisure sip.

All of the blood in my body rushed up to my face like a raging inferno.

“You have some nerve! I don’t need you to keep me safe or alive,” I ground out as I kicked the covers off me and soared out of bed to march over to him, ready to ram his glass of Scotch down his throat. “I can take care of my damn self just fine.”

“Your actions today prove otherwise,” he said as he set the glass down and straightened to his full height faster than my eyes could track him. He peered down at me with challenge in his eyes. “Not only did you walk into the house of the Devil’s doxy in the middle of the day without so much as a word to any one of the many people currently living under your roof, but you also managed to bring yourself within seconds of your own death. You would not even be standing here right now had it not been for those wings of yours spontaneously making an appearance. So, yes, I’d say it’s about time I take matters into my own hands.”

“How fucking dare you,” I seethed as I jabbed my finger into the center of his chest, glaring back up at him. “You don’t have the right to judge me.”

“That’s where you’re wrong, angel.” He caught my hand and tugged me forward, bringing our faces within a finger’s breadth of each other. “When it comes to you, I have every right.”

“Every right to what? To leave me? To ghost me when I needed you the most?” I shook my head, angry tears stinging the corner of my eyes as I yanked my hand free and shoved him back a step. “I was alone today because of you! Because you left me!” I shouted back at him, wanting to hurt him as badly as he hurt me when he left. “You don’t get to waltz back in now and pretend like you still care. Like I suddenly matter to you.”

“You are the only thing that matters to me.”

My heart clenched as a single fat tear slowly trickled down my cheek. “So, I guess that’s the reason you won’t touch me or kiss me anymore either then, right? Because I matter so much?”

He dropped his head and slipped his hands into his pockets, his jaw tensing tirelessly under my scrutiny as though words had suddenly failed him.

“Is it?” I pushed, needing for him to answer me. To tell me the truth. But all he did was stand there, refusing to touch me or kiss me or even meet my eyes. I stepped forward, forcing the issue—crowding his space so that he had nowhere to look but right at me. “Answer me.”

Cold, angry eyes flicked up to mine like a cold gust of air. They were meant to scare me away, to deter me, but I didn’t back down. If he didn’t still have feelings for me, then why did he go looking for me? Why was he still here, refusing to leave? None of this made any sense to me anymore and I needed it to make sense. I needed to see the truth behind the cold words and hard eyes for myself and there was only one way I knew to do that.

Mustering up every morsel of courage I had left, I edged forward until I was standing so close to him that even a sheet of paper couldn’t make its way between us. The scent of melting chocolate and spicy tobacco engulfed my senses and my eyes slipped shut as I hungrily pushed up onto my toes.

Dominic caught my arms and jerked me back before I could land the kiss. Every thread of courage and self-respect I had shriveled away into nothing.

“Go to bed,” he hissed, his jaw straining furiously. “Before I do something we will both regret.”

Furious, I wrenched myself free from his grasp and reared back.

There were so many things I wanted to say to him then, to scream out at him, but I refused to let him have any more of my dignity. Without uttering a single word to him, I turned on my heel and walked back to my bed before climbing in and vowing that I would spend the rest of the night pretending he didn’t even exist anymore.

Another tear slid down my cheek and I promised myself it would be the very last one I let fall for him.