Rostova chuckles. “You sound surprised. How else was I supposed to keep an eye on you? These weekly calls only give me so much confidence, Serena.”
My mouth hangs open, and I mouth a few words before saying, “You can trust me.”
“Can I?” he says. “Because it seems to me you’ve been growing a little distracted these past few days…”
“I—”
“You what? I’d be careful if I were you, Serena,” he warns. “I will know if you’re lying.”
“I’ve only been assimilating,” I say, trying hard to conceal the tremor in my voice. “Just like you asked. I need to blend in if I’m to gain their trust. That’s all I’ve been doing.”
Rostova hums. “So convincing your team to join you for the Trials shouldn’t be an issue, then, should it?” I can hear the smirk in his voice, the very tone rising bile into my throat.
“But the Trials are dangerous, I—”
“And that concerns you, why?”
I clamp my mouth shut to stop myself from digging myself into a deeper hole. But my hesitation is all Rostova needs. His next words come out as a threatening hiss.
“I have eyes on you day and night, Serena. And I will not hesitate to pick off those boys one by one if you do not do as I ask. Is that clear?”
I exhale quietly and close my eyes. “You don’t have to worry,” I say dryly. “They mean nothing to me. I will have them support me in the Trials; they will be my shields if it comes to it. You have my word.”
Rostova says nothing for a moment, but he gives a light-hearted chuckle. “That’s my girl. Don’t ever make me doubt you again, Serena. You won’t like the consequences.”
The line cuts, and I pull the phone from my ear as if it burned me, dropping it onto my mattress. My pulse races as I stare down at it, and I don’t know what’s worse. That Master Rostova knows my loyalty to him is slipping, or that he’s threatened the lives of the guys if I don’t complete my mission.
A knock at my door.
I scrunch up my face and bury my phone under my pillows. I wait, hoping they’ll leave, but after a few seconds, Paxton calls out. “Serena?”
With a sigh, I stand up and open the door. “Hey, Pax.”
He doesn’t say anything as he watches me. “You didn’t tell us you’d come back.”
“Didn’t I?” I say, audibly breathless. “Ah yeah, I…” I inhale, struggling to meet his eyes. “I just had to give my headmaster a call. He likes to know how I’m getting on.”
“Well… it’s past one,” he replies slowly. “And I think Dane said something about wanting his chest back.”
Thankful for the distraction, I plaster a look of innocence on my face and step past him into the hallway. “What’s wrong with his chest? It looked fine to me this morning…”
He rolls his eyes as we head down the stairs. “You know exactly what’s wrong. And Dane with a woman’s boobs is like something from a Frankenstein horror movie. And I don’t ever want to have to see it again.” He wrinkles his nose, and I grin smugly.
“How angry is he?”
Paxton laughs, the sound sending shivers of warmth through me. “Let’s just say the sooner you fix it, the better. For all of our sakes.”
As we near the back door, I call to my curse within Dane and release it, the power melting from him and drawing back to me.
Paxton holds the door open for me as I step out of the house and back into the warm sun into our gated backyard, the sound of steel against steel clashing in the air. Pax closes the door behind us, the clicking of the latch drawing three sets of eyes, but only one holds my attention.
I bite my lip to control myself, and it takes everything inside of me not to laugh at the dark look in Dane’s eyes as he stalks toward me. There’s something terrifying and thrilling about seeing him like this. I really must be insane.
“You’re on your own,” Paxton mutters and shuffles out of Dane’s path of destruction with a grin and a two-fingered salute.
“No fair,” I pout.
“It was nice knowing you, Serena.” Declan’s eye roll is the last thing I see before everything is blocked by the broad chest in front of me, hidden beneath a giant gray sweatshirt as the others make their escape.
At least he’s tit-free. I snicker and look up to Dane’s face. “Is everything okay? You’re looking a little gloomy.”
A low growl pulls from his throat, and I shiver as the sound vibrates through me. Tendrils of lust ripple down to my core, and his eyes narrow.
“Do you like pushing me, Serena?” he asks, his voice dropping as he steps in so close, I can feel the warmth coming from him.
I swallow, trying to alleviate the dryness in my mouth. “Is that a rhetorical question?”
He steps forward, forcing me back until I hit the door. I don’t even notice the roughness of it as his hands rest on either side of me.
I reach up and rest my hands on his chest, clutching the soft material in my hands. “And besides, I’m sure you looked wonderful with a nice rack. I mean, those pecs of yours are impressive, but add in a nice set of—”
He kisses me, and I grin in victory before wrapping both of my arms around his neck and pulling him firmly against me. I can feel every plane of his hard body. Large hands grip my hips, pulling me closer, and I gasp as his fingers dig in as pleasure rocks through me.
But he pulls back with a smirk at the dazed look on my face and whispers, “And that’s for tormenting me.”
He turns on his heel and walks away, leaving me with a pounding heart and a body burning with need.
He is the devil. There’s no other explanation. A very hot and lick-able devil. I draw in
