CAGED (#3, of Crows and Thorns)

Chapter 35

I couldn't help how shrill my voice was. "Have you been there?"

Graysen's jaw ticked and the life in his gaze become flatter and harder. "Once or twice."

"So you know it's a brothel for the Horned Gods."

"The Houses attend too," he added, frowning.

"Because they're sick," I shot back. An icy sensation slithered down my spine as what I knew about the Emporium flooded through my mind. I hissed through my teeth. "They eat people in there as fucking snacks."

Inky-black brows nudged together as he slowly shook his head, deep in thought. "I don't know... I don't know what Jett's up to."

"Your brother is a psycho," I snarled, jabbing an elbow into his chest to make my point. "If he, if any of you, " I amended, "so much as plucks a wisp from Sage, I will kill you."

A fierce, protective gleam glinted in the depth of black eyes. "He's just messed up."

"You all are! And you, you most of all, Mr. I-love-to-hunt."

His gaze mellowed then fell on my mouth. "It's the thrill of the chase, and your fight..." The last few words drifted apart, and he swallowed thickly as if he suddenly realized what he was saying.

And just like that I became aware that was holding me, that I was perched on his lap like a bird. All my focus went to where we were touching, how my skin smoldered where we connected. A hand wrapped around my wrists, a handcuff formed from warm fingers, and his other arm banded around my waist. My shoulder and side were curved into his hard chest.

The air thickened between us. Tension coiled, energy flowing back and forth, and electricity sparked beneath his touch.

If I tipped my head a fraction into the right angle, he could kiss me.

He bit down on his bottom lip, and he raked his teeth across the soft flesh, a war raging in his expression as he stared at my mouth.

"It's just chemicals, that's all. It doesn't mean anything." My voice was barely a whisper.

He blinked rapidly, his gaze lifting to mine, then darting away, as if coming to his senses.

"Let me go." I tugged my wrists free, and eased myself awkwardly off his lap and onto the path, the pebbles digging into my knees. He rose, offering a hand. When I stared at it as if I'd rather set it on fire, he withdrew, taking a step back and waiting patiently until I got to my feet.

Flicking my fingers across my skirt to dust it off, I then readjusted my cap sleeves to sit properly on my shoulders and tossed my braid to my back. Pouting, I glanced about. "Where are we?"

"The back of the Keep," Graysen answered. "My mother's gardens."

I hmmm-ed, careful to keep the fact I was impressed out of my tone and expression. The garden was magical. We were surrounded by thick plantings of ferns and wildflowers, with jasmine draping from majestic trees and white climbing roses twining around everything. Motes danced in the shafts of sunlight while a soft drone of insects came from within the shadows. I sucked in a breath, indulging in the moist, pungent, earthy smells permeating the air. It reminded me of running through the woodland, amongst the wild rambling trees, every morning and every evening.