Page 18 of The Tribrid Princess and the Taste of Chaos (The Rossi Legacies #7)

Jayce

I smell her before I even hear her, music blaring through my earbuds.

Rich and intoxicating. And then I sense her emotions as chaotic as her unruly curls.

Not as intense as they were out earlier tonight, but still forceful and somewhat…

hotter. I guess seeing a man in a towel, regardless of who it is, works for her.

I look at her through the mirror, freezing for a fraction of a second, my eyes skimming over her.

She’s not in that hoodie she loves to hide beneath; instead, she’s in some grey yoga pants that wrap around her legs like a glove, emphasising her sexy thighs and curvaceous hips.

She’s paired it with a white tee that accentuates her every sinful curve.

Her wet curls are pinned up on top of her head.

Why the fuck has she just walked in here looking like the devil’s plaything?

Her eyes are fixed on me, her cheeks a pretty shade of blush, and I turn, not missing the way her eyes are drinking up my physique. I can’t help but smirk.

“If you were looking for Renji, I hate to break it to you, but you got the wrong Westwood. Not that you seem to mind the view.”

Her eyes fly open. “I was looking for you,” she says breathlessly, in a voice that fucking grates on my nerves and yet fucks with my mind. I narrow my eyes and notice her glance at her Schattensicht, her cheeks flushing as she tries to grasp onto what to say.

So she used that to locate me…

“Those are supposed to be used for missions only, not to stalk your fellow teammates, let alone your commander,” I say emotionlessly.

She’s looking anywhere but at me now, her arm pressed between her breasts, in that annoying way that only draws attention to them. I look away and cross my arms, ignoring the pain stabbing through my arm as I switch off the music.

She doesn’t answer this time, and that irritates me. She talks perfectly well to everyone else.

“What do you want?” I ask, irritation seeping into my voice.

“I…”

“Spit it out,” I command, making her flinch.

“I wanted to apologise.” Her voice is soft, like a caress against the skin, as she now looks up at me with those stormy grey eyes that are rimmed with a darker ring.

Apologise…

I scoff as I look down at my shoulder; it’s not healing as well as it should have been. Maybe the manananggal got its teeth into me, but I’m not sure because I wasn’t able to focus with her emotions fucking with my head.

Intuition.

That’s something I inherited from my father’s bloodline, and, as advantageous as it can be when it comes to her, it fucks me over. I can’t even push past it and focus on anything. It’s why I never wanted her anywhere near me, not when she’s a fucking walking, talking ball of chaos.

That, and the way she distracts me by simply being here. Another pathetic reason.

I saunter over to her, eating up the space between us, and she steps back, her heart hammering, making her breasts rise and fall rapidly as her back hits the wall beside the door.

I rest my good arm above her head and look down at her, getting a good view of her breasts, and notice she’s wearing a lace bra. I can see the pattern outlined against her top, a green bra…

I look away. “Apologise for what? Being pretty useless or for this?” I glance at my left shoulder, which has a bandage wrapped around it. “Because if it’s the latter, I don’t fucking need your apology.”

She looks away. “Both. I am sorry. I didn’t mean for you to get hurt. You should have let it attack me. You didn’t need to protect me.”

I scoff, cocking a brow. Yeah, because I’m going to let something happen to the sister of one of my closest friends.

“News flash, Rossi, you were put in my division. You are my fucking responsibility. Even if you’re just a burden, you are still under my watch. And unlike you, I take my responsibilities seriously.” My tone is harsh, but I really don’t give a shit.

She looks down at the small bag she’s holding. And I hate that for a moment, I feel bad for her.

This is Leo’s fault. She shouldn’t be here if she can’t control her shit, and she clearly can’t speak up for herself, either.

Not when it comes to arguing with anyone from her family.

I saw the way she lashed out at Sato, and saw the same fire I have seen in her when she was younger.

It’s there, just buried under so much other shit.

“I brought some medical items. There are some spelled patches that will help with the pain until it heals… I’m sorry.” Her voice ends in a whisper, her gaze still lowered, her lashes brush her cheeks as she looks down at the bag again, and I look away, frustrated.

We’re close… too close, and I know she’s aware of it, too.

Don’t fuck with my head.

“Drop the act,” I say coldly, turning and walking back over to the counter. “Leave.”

I didn’t shower in our dorm because I didn’t want Artemis to get up in my fucking business. It’ll heal…

“They’re really good. Please, at least try them.”

I cock a brow, glancing at her in the mirror as she comes over, emptying the contents of the bag onto the counter. Her seductive scent, which only seems to be growing more potent with every passing month, tickles my nose. She smells of cherries, moonflower and amber.

For a second, I close my eyes, relishing in that delicious concoction before I turn my head away from her, refusing to watch her.

“Please?”

She’s too close. I can feel the heat of her body against my arm, so I turn, leaning against the counter and nod my head towards my shoulder. “Go for it.”

She looks up at me, surprise flashing across her face. “What?”

“Apply it then.”

Her heart’s racing as she looks at the items she’s brought before looking at my arm.

She nods slowly, only making the curls that frame her face brush against it, one stray strand stubbornly remaining.

She doesn’t move it and slowly reaches for my bandaged arm, the urge to move it away itching at my fingers.

She’s nervous, and she keeps looking at my face as if expecting me to do something, but I simply stay where I am, hands braced against the counter I’m leaning against. And I don’t bother bending down or making it easier for her to reach me.

She doesn’t tell me to either. Instead, she tiptoes, reaching up as she begins to unwrap my shoulder.

I think it’s the first time I’ve seen her up close… for this long anyway.

Her beauty spot is so perfectly placed above her lip on the left side, her slender nose, perfect skin…

She’s taking good care not to touch me, and I almost scoff at that. She has no issue taking Renji’s hand or touching him.

I frown as I watch her, my gaze now dipping to her body, and I force my gaze away from her breasts and instead focus on her butterfly tattoos.

There are a few new ones, or I’ve just never seen them before.

There’s a tiny one just behind her ear… There were nine before.

Is that seventeen now? My eyes trail over her arms and her wrists.

I know she has the ones on her thighs. I’m not sure how many. I didn’t get a proper look.

She gasps, and I’m snapped out of my thoughts, looking at her, but her eyes are on my arm. “Were you bitten?” she asks, her heart hammering. She reaches up, her fingers ghosting along my skin mere centimetres away from my wound, and I tense.

“Sorry,” she whispers, concern flooding her eyes as she looks up at me. She thinks I’m in pain when her touch is that gentle? “I’m so sorry. Did you tell the school healer that you may have been bitten? I know a spell that can cleanse the wound before we bind it.”

“You’ll end up fucking that up, too,” I say coldly. I don’t know what she’s playing at. Sometimes she acts fucking incapable and all tragic, and then at times you can tell she’s more than that. Is it all an act to get sympathy? So she can be the poor little orphan girl who lost her dad?

She’s fine to do whatever girls do to make their hair all pretty and cake on the makeup…

“I won’t. I promise,” she whispers softly.

“Stop talking in that irritating tone,” I reply icily, because it really fucks with my head. She looks startled and maybe a tad confused.

“I’m sorry. Let me help, please.”

“Doing one spell when everything’s over isn’t going to fix shit,” I state, moving and turning swiftly, caging her between the counter with my arms as I lean down to look her dead in the eyes.

“I know…” She looks down, her heart hammering loudly, and then she turns her head, looking anywhere but at me.

“Look at me,” I command, my eyes flashing and her breath trembles. She’s defying me? I pinch her chin, forcing her head up, her heart thumping as she continues refusing to meet my gaze. “I said, look at me, Sienna.”

Her name is foreign on my tongue, but it rolls off so fucking perfectly.

This time she obeys, stormy grey meets green, and for a moment time seems to slow. She was more than this. It’s irritating seeing her like this…

“If you’re sorry, prove it by getting your shit together.

As a punishment for your incompetence, I’ll be working with you during every training session going forward.

And I swear, Sienna, I won’t fall for your excuses or your pathetic tears.

I will work you so fucking hard that even when you scream for mercy, you won’t get any. ”

Her eyes widen as she stares up at me, her lips slightly parted, before she shakes her head and then seems to comprehend what I just promised.

Shock, worry, panic and then there it is, the storm of her emotions all over the place once again.

It gives me a headache. I move back, letting go of her, and without another word, turn and leave the room. I walk to my locker and take out some pants, pulling them on. Without her scent consuming me, everything becomes just a little clearer.

What was I doing?

She really fucks with my head…

I’m tying the drawstring on my pants when she steps out of the shower room.

But where I’m expecting her to run away in tears, she walks over to me, her curls and breasts bouncing with every determined step she takes, and her eyes glimmer a dark cherry red, whispering something that I can’t really hear or comprehend.

Her hair seems to deepen in colour, her face appearing more angular, and then she’s placing her hand on my shoulder, and I feel the burning ease up.

I don’t move. All I can do is stare at her, enthralled.

The urge to grab her and pin her against the lockers behind me surges through me, but it’s a fleeting moment as she steps back and places the bag of items on the bench.

“The wound will heal by tomorrow,” she whispers in a voice that sounds like she’s promising something much more enticing, but then she turns and runs out.

I frown, staring at the door that swings shut after her, running my fingers through my hair.

What was that? Was it her demon heritage?

I remember as a child, her hair was dark, maybe a dark brown, but as she’s gotten older, it’s become lighter and redder.

I remember Mom and Aunty Kiara discussing it once.

And her features just now…

I curse under my breath.

Slamming my locker shut, I look at my shoulder. The wound is gone, leaving behind a bruise, but she’s also left me craving something more…

Taking the bag she left on the bench, I leave the locker room and head out through the gym and back to Division Nine’s quarters, entering with a scan of my fingerprint and a pin code to unlock our door.

I glance around the empty lounge, glad everyone’s turned in for the night. Good, I don’t want anyone in my face.

I cross the room and unlock my bedroom door when I hear another door open, and Allison runs over.

“Jayce! Are you ok?” she asks softly.

I’m about to ignore her, but the thirst that’s left inside of me does need quenching.

“Yeah,” I reply curtly. Grabbing hold of her arm, I pull her into my room.

A smile crosses her lips as I kick the door shut and push her up against the door.

“I can see that,” she purrs.

I prefer her not to talk.

I turn her away, shoving her against the door, and she braces her hands against it. I yank up the short night dress she’s wearing, pushing aside her panties.

“Oh, Jayce…” she whimpers.

“One more word and I will fucking stop,” I warn her coldly.

My brows furrow as I twist my hand into her blond hair. I pull out my dick and slam into her needy pussy, imagining I’m holding a tangle of auburn locks in my fist.