“Then why did you do it?” Atlanta’s voice was raised, and her temper seemed to be flaring again. “If she didn’t order you to, then why did you—”
“Shh,” I hissed down at her. I placed my finger against her lips to quiet her. In her fury, she was forgetting herself, and our position here as well. “This is not the place to be having such an argument, Atlanta. There are ears in the palace, and here in the gardens as well. Everywhere, there are eyes on us. You would do well to remember that.”
“Then tell me why,” she insisted. “You had no right to.”
“Did I not?” I cocked my head to the side. “I do not recall you being particularly opposed to it in the moment.”
“You can’t just take whatever you want, whenever you want it,” she snarled up at me. “You’re no better than Idria, or Lieja, or those baz-terds who were trying to force themselves on me last night either. I’m not a toy, Apex, and I don’t deserve to be treated like one.”
“And how do you deserve to be treated then, pray tell?”
“I—well—” Atlanta blinked several times, obviously surprised by the question. Perhaps she had never truly considered it before. “Well, you can’t just treat me like some misbehaving child, then turn around and kiss me, for one. I deserve better than getting your kindness one moment, then nothing but orders and growls and threats from you the next.”
Kindness one moment, threats the next. But which was the kiss, I wondered? The kindness? Or the threat?
In the end, it did not matter, I supposed. My curiosities about Atlanta’s true feelings for me were secondary at that moment. As I had told her—this was not the place.
“Would you prefer that I was not kind at all?” I moved closer to her than was appropriate and stooped so we could not be overheard. My voice was a low growl. “Would you prefer that I just took what I wanted, whenever I wanted it? Then, I suppose, you could happily play the victim, gleefully cast me as your oppressor, no matter how I wish to help you. Does that suit you better, Atlanta? Because if so, you need only to say the word.”
When her eyes met mine, I gave her the command immediately: kneel.
But while she did not obey the command, her face had softened in the strangest way. I could hear her pulse quickening. Her breath against my chest was warm, ragged but nonetheless inviting. And the way she looked at me for a moment, like she was daring me to go ahead—try it and see what might happen—did not seem like a threat.
If anything, she looked like she wanted me to do as I had said. Take her. Make her mine, however I saw fit. Oh, she would fight me about it, I was certain. Just as she had called me a baz-terd last night, slapped me, regarded me with pure hate—all the while pretending that as I kissed her, she had not been kissing me back.
Incredible.
The temptation was overwhelming. She was an inherently tempting thing. If I had taken all that I liked in a female—spirit, fury, strength, longing—and placed it in the most beautiful vessel imaginable, whatever ideal mate I had made for myself would have looked pale and uninteresting compared to Atlanta there in the garden in that moment. Her pink hair, crowned and haloed with yellow flowers and sunshine. Her green eyes, daring and spiteful and filled with lust, all at once. Her poor, sweet lips, the lower one still slightly swollen. Her chest, heaving. Her heartbeat racing—beating in time with my own as I willed myself the bravery claim another kiss from her, and at the same time, nearly tore myself apart trying to stop myself.
In the end, thankfully, restraint won out.
“I like you when you’re kind to me,” Atlanta whispered.
“Do you?” I was not so sure of that, and from the uncertainty in Atlanta’s eyes, it did not appear that she was either.
“I don’t want…I don’t want you to be like the rest of them. Takers. Baz-terds. I want…to trust you, I think.” She shook her head softly. “But I can’t read you. I can’t figure you out. I don’t know how.”
“There is nothing to figure out.” I placed steel in my gaze. It was not hard. My eyes were harsh things to look upon, I knew. Black as space, and just as empty. “I have been honest with you. I have been as kind as I am able. But as for these takers, as you call them—you should get used to being taken from, Atlanta. It sounds as though you have been taken from for your entire life.”
“I don’t want that life anymore. I never did.”
“Then find a way to defend yourself from them,” I said plainly. “It was not just kindness that led me to defend you from Lieja’s mates last night. It was duty as well. What would have happened, I wonder, if I had not stepped in? Would you hate me even more for letting them have you?”
“It was kindness. And I’m…I’m grateful for your help. I really am.” She bit her lip then, though I wished she would not. It would not please me to see her reopen the skin there, especially while it was still healing. “I’m sorry, Apex. I’m in your debt.”
“No, you are not.” My voice was firm. “That kiss—the one you feel I took from you—was my price. If you were smart, though…if you truly feel I took advantage… You would do well, Atlanta, not to find yourself in a position where I must claim such things from you again.”
“I won’t,” she said.
But again, she looked uncertain.
And once again, as I looked upon her, my cock grew so stiff in my trousers that it took every iota of my restraint not to take her there on the spot.
Blood.
We were playing a dangerous game here. One that, no matter how I
