Page 14 of Wicked Dove

In slow motion, I turn to find a brooding man a step beside me. Blond hair sweeps back off his face, revealing his deep, green eyes and chiseled jaw as he glares at me. I’m not short at five-foot-nine, but he’s enormous, making me crane my neck as my pulse quickens at his sudden proximity.

Before I can collect myself, he snarls, disdain pouring from every breath.

“Punch the glass one more time and I’ll break your fucking fingers.”

FOUR

ELODIE

My heart pounds as I stare at the furious guy in front of me. I feel like I can’t breathe. He’s too close. I should push him away, tell him to back off, but all I can do is stare at him.

He’s mesmerizing.

Thinking such a description of him in my mind is like pouring a bucket of ice water over me, shaking me back into the present. Attempting to yank my hand from his grip, I fail miserably, his hold only tightening as I snarl at him.

“Remove your hand,” I say, nostrils flaring with irritation, but all he does is tighten his grip further, reminding me he’s in control. My lips part, about to give him a piece of my mind when he drops my hand as if it’s burning. My arm falls loose at my side as I watch him walk away.

He flops down on the bed, stretching his long legs out as he folds his arms behind his head and closes his eyes, acting as if I’m not even here. I hadn’t even realized he was there. I was too focused on getting out as quickly as I could.

Why doesn’t he hold that same desire?

Tilting my head at him, I fold my arms protectively over my chest. All I remember before waking up was pain, sheer agony. Did he not go through that too?

“Stop staring,” he grunts, his eyes still closed, and I narrow my gaze at him. How does he even know I’m looking in his direction? I stick my middle finger up at him for good measure, only to startle when he cocks a brow, all while his eyes remain shut.

Ass.

“Are you happy to be here?” I blurt, earning a scoff from him.

“No.”

“Then why aren’t you trying to get out?”

He shrugs, still content and relaxed on his bed. “There is no getting out.”

I huff. He’s given up. He just doesn’t want to say it. I’m not giving up.

Pursing my lips, I turn back to the glass, fist raised as I consider causing a stir again, but before my knuckles hit the clear cage, I peer back over my shoulder to find him staring at me. The challenge in his eyes is undeniable.

I lower my hand, watching as his eyelids fall closed again.

Helpless, I stare at him, searching for answers he appears to have that I haven’t yet learned.

“Where are we?”

“The Sanctum.”

My eyes widen in surprise. I wasn’t expecting him to answer me. Even so, he’s not really sharing anything I don’t already know.

“I’ve learned that part. I’m looking for a bit more depth,” I push, and a smirk touches the corner of his mouth.

“I didn’t know girls had depth,” he retorts, fueling rage through my veins as I glare at him. Not that he would understand. He’s happy to provoke me with his damn eyes closed.

“I didn’t know boys had any thoughts at all, but here you are,” I snap back with a huff, and he opens one eye.

“Was that an insult?” Amusement sparkles in his emerald-green pools.

“Are you insulted?” I bite back, planting my hands on my hips.