Her guard, her temptation

10

kaira astor

His eyes darken rapidly, hooded in a way that causes me to clench my thighs around his strong hips. His fingers flex around my wrist, his eyes flashing. I refrain from focusing on how his broad body feels underneath mine, on how my hips melt into his. I refrain from dwelling on the way his green eyes turn hooded, boring into mine with an intensity that burns, that sets every inch of my body ablaze, so scorching that my eyes flutter, heat coiling in my lower stomach. No, I hate him.

I refrain from groaning as my eyes sift over his inky, disheveled strands or the way his rough, callous fingers feel wrapped around my skin, the tendons in his hand prompt, the material of his shirt digging into his biceps, the tattoo on his arm adding to the darkness that is him. And, I definitely refrain from allowing my mind to hover over different scenarios that exclude clothes. He feels so powerful and firm beneath me. I realize then, no amount of hate I feel for him could dwindle how attractive he is. It should be a sin to look the way he does.

I roll my wrist in his hand, my eyes snapping down to the contact and my stomach sinks. What? The fog clears from my mind, the reality shackling my emotions. I wait for the burn in my mind, for my eyes to glaze over and to be thrown into his mind, to latch onto every memory he hasn't forcefully shoved away. But, it doesn't come. In fact, it hasn't been ever since he showed up. He's touched me multiple times— skin to skin — but no memories flooded my mind, no honestly fell from his lips.

My chest caves in. No. I yank at my wrist, my entire body shivering and trembling and I just might throw up. Zyran releases his hold on my wrist and I scramble to my feet, harsh breathes clawing out of my lungs. My knees buckle, my hands tremble and bile rises in my throat. How did I not notice it the first time? How didn't I realize he was touching me? Why isn't it affecting him? Has my ability finally faded? My head is pounding, various emotions crashing down on my soul. Movement catches my attention and I startle, lifting my gaze just as Zyran steps toward me, those dark eyes brimming with confusion.

He shifts to take another step forward, but I raise my hand, a choked groan escaping my throat. "Do not touch me." Frantic and hysterical, my voice bounces off the walls. I need to know, I need to know. “Maliah,” The name rolls over his tongue and falls from his lips, so sinful, so rough, so intoxicating. My eyes sweep to Zyran’s, his eyebrows pulled low as he watches me, observes me, sees me. My second name, he said my second name. Loose strands hang over his forehead, a few falling over his eyes and I shudder, feeling too exposed. And, I see it in his eyes, in the way his pupils dilate. He knows. It feels like I’m suffocating under his gaze, my lungs pleading, my mind screaming, my heart pounding.

I twist around with urgency, darting toward the door, Zyran’s eyes tracking me, but he doesn’t stop me. I push forward, dashing down the hall, sweat trickling down my spine as my frantic eyes flint around. The darkness looms over me, swallowing me as I continue down the hall, my fingers digging into the material of my shirt. “f**k sakes.” My voice trembles as I sigh out the words, every part of me being alert with warning. Warning not to go into that room, warning to just spin around and wallow in my room.

I can’t, I need to know. I stride down the dirty, concrete steps, the silence deafening as my heart picks up pace, my body wracking with goosebumps. I push my limbs to continue, to trail down the dark staircase. My hands seek warmth as I push them into my hoodie’s pockets, my fingers curling into fists as I take the last step and look up. “Princess?” The guard in front of the metal door straightens, his posture rigid. “Open the door.” I gulp down the bile rising in my throat. He stares at me for a moment, his lips pressing into a thin line. He hesitates. I narrow my eyes.

His head falls into a sharp nod, and he spins, pushing a key into the hole and pulls open the door, the sound echoing down the hall as the metal creaks. He takes a step to the side, waiting. I hold my breath, staring into the darkness, no movement, no sounds, nothing. Inhaling a thin breath, I step forward, into the cell, every hair standing on end, prickling at my skin. He can't hurt me, he's weak. He means nothing. He is nothing. This means nothing. Silence, and then, “Here I thought I’d never see you again, my dear Kaira.”

—

Drip. Drip. Drip. The light rain falls against the window, trailing down the glass. The trees sway, leaves blowing in the wind. The sky is dark, ominous, no stars littering the sky as the black clouds pour rain down. Wildly, viciously. "The food is delicious. Remind me to speak to the chef before I leave." Amara's voice is muffled to my ears, my senses drowned out, completely fixated on the storm outside. Resembling the storm roaring in my mind. "I'll tell the chef to write down some recipes for you." Father chirps, warmth poured into his tone. How blissful for them, to have a quiet mind, to indulge in light chatter without feeling like a strong hand is wrapped around their throats, squeezing.

"That would be so kind! Thank you, Alpha Astor." Amara's voice is dipped in honey, my inside knotting. Drip. Drip. Drip. I wonder what life would feel like if I could drain all my sorrows like the clouds, what it would feel like if I could burst open and release it all in one angry roar and crack. 'You're a hollow human, my dear Kaira. That is why it's so easy to fill you with sadness, knowing it will claw at your chest, so forcefully and painfully, that, in the end, it will consume you; destroy you.' Thunder strikes in the air, the roar so demanding that the windows rattle, a few gasps flinging from Amara and my mother.

I blink, staring mesmerized as the sky lights up, the strikes flinting through the clouds. A thrill shoots through me. Beautiful. "Kaira," My fingertips slide over the scar on my wrist, tracing the raised skin. "Kaira," Heat tracks down the side of my face, the intensity causing my fingers to halt. "Kaira!" Father's voice snaps me from my daze and I startle, pivoting my head to the side. They're all staring at me, their eyebrows drawn together in concern and confusion. Right. I'm not indulging in chatter about food and recipes, how rude. I lean back in the chair, slight annoyance bristling under my skin at the feel of his eyes watching me.

"Where is Dax?" The question causes my father's eyebrows to draw closer, his dark blue hues roving over my face. "He'll return tomorrow, he hasn't been well." Tomorrow. The information eases the tension in my shoulders, slight relief veiling my raging mind. Dax isn't intruding, he's not intrusive, and he doesn't make me feel the way Zyran does. "Are you alright, Kaira?" Concern and gentleness flows through his voice, so softly that I blink. I'm so used to my father being curt, ruthless, kind and welcoming. Never soft and gentle though. I slide my hands down my thighs, forcing a small smile on my lips. "Yes, just tired." The lie leaves a bitter taste in my mouth, and that's when I realize he knows. Knows where I was today, what I did.

I pull my gaze away from his and stare down at the food on my plate. I'm just avoiding everyone's gazes tonight, especially his. I can feel the sharpness of his piercing eyes scrape against my skin, latched onto me. After what happened in the gym today, I can't meet his eyes, can't look at him. Not after what I felt, or what he saw. A shiver rolls down my spine and my fingers tighten around the fork. Must he be so f*****g intense? "I've been meaning to ask," Amara drawls out, and I watch her place her elbows on the edge of the dining table. "Kaira and I were speaking, and I thought it'd be a good idea if she got away for a little while." My head snaps up, my eyes widening as I watch her. No warning at all? "I spoke to Zyran as well," What? Her eyes fling toward him, a smile tugging at her lips before her tongue briefly trails over her bottom lip. Did they--

Fuck it. My eyes flash to him, standing in the shadows, large and broad and intimidating and absolutely terrifying. My heart skips a beat. He's looking at Amara, his eyes dark and teasing. What the f**k? My lips part, my eyebrows caving in. As if sensing me, he drags his eyes to mine, his gaze falling to my agape mouth. "He said they have guards located in Oakland as well. So, it'll be safe, especially with him there." I can almost hear the longing in her voice. Anger coils in my chest. The edge of his lips twitch, his pupils dilating.