Page 61 of Satanic Shadow

“If you’re not going to get this over with, I’m leaving,” I say, hurrying to my feet and reaching for the door handle.

Dane uses his power to appear beside me, his towering height throwing a shadow of black over me, his chest and the ink littering his skin on show. He covers my hand, dwarfing it, and I throw my own death stare at him. “Let go.”

“You aren’t going out there dressed like that. You’ll be eaten alive.”

I try to pull the handle, but he’s too strong. “I’ll take my chances.”

“Why are you being so difficult?”

I laugh. Really laugh. “Are you joking?”

“Do I appear to be amused by any of this?”

“No. All you seem to be doing is getting undressed.”

He blinks. I don’t—I keep staring at him, waiting for a reply.

“Nothing to say?” I push.

“We need to finish task three,” is all he says, his hand still over mine.

“And you need to take me back to my room,” I retort. “I’m done with this stupid assignment.”

His eyes narrow a fraction as he steps forward, and we’re back at square one, with him pressing me to the door. When my heart rate spikes, he notices and quickly backs away. “You’re not done with the tasks.”

The door is locked when I try again. I try more than once then give up and beat the wood with my fists, turning to lean my back to it, catching my breath. “I hate you.”

“Is that why you’re wet?”

My heart stops. My eyes widen, and my cheeks are probably a bright shade of red. “Excuse me?”

“I’m an immortal with heightened senses, plus I can feel everything you’re feeling right now. Lust and desire are practically radiating from you.”

“Go fuck yourself, Dane.”

He studies his cufflinks with fascination as he unhooks them. “No. That doesn’t seem enjoyable at all.”

“Unlock the door.”

“No. You have no idea what lurks out there.”

I groan and turn to him, barging my shoulder into his chest as I make my way to the other side of his gigantic room. “Then I’ll jump out of the window.”

“We’re at the top of a tower.”

I throw my arms up. “Great! Maybe the fall will put all of this to an end.”

He stops me, grabbing my wrist before I can even get close. “Stop acting like a brat.”

“Stop acting like you own me,” I snap, snatching myself away from his grip and putting distance between us. “Whether you like it or not, I’m leaving this room.”

He pinches the bridge of his nose. “You’re intolerable.”

“And you’re annoying!” My insults need a boost. “I wish I was partnered up with someone else.”

“The feeling is fucking mutual.” He’s eliminating the distance between us. “If you can’t handle this, how are you going to handle the rest of the tasks?”

“I can handle them just fine. What I don’t appreciate is you not even giving me a chance to get dressed! You’re bossy and rude and controlling!”