Aristocrat | ✓

CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

     Starlight flooded the room through the open window when the rust-orange rays of sunlight fully retreated behind the clod. The darkness didn't matter. I couldn't sleep.

     My head was buzzing with conspiracy theories as Lord Evenus held on to my waist and fanned my back with his breath. I kept staring at the wardrobe, almost expecting Sawyer himself to jump out. My body was burning up, and I felt like the only way to cool it down was to find answers. Answers that Bennett was not ready to give me. My eyes teared up, and my throat clogged as the beginning of what would be frustrating sobs started to pull in the pit of my stomach.

     I had just slept with the man I loved—been intimate with him in a way I enjoyed, but here I was drenched in sweat and thighs slithered in oil, still; confused, angry, self-conscious, and jealous. I hated feeling like I did.

     My eyes darted from one corner of the room to the other. Two candles had been lit. one burned on the dresser and another sat on a nightstand. I stared at its flame, watching the red, white, and orange dance as they provided the light.

     A sudden urge to get up struck me, but I couldn't act on it because Evenus was holding on to me. I thought about it for a bit before reaching to hold his arms. He loosened his grip a bit, muttering my name as I took his hands away. I turned, staring at his face as I thought about leaving his bedroom. He frowned a bit when I made him let me go, but his expression had softened, and he had drifted off to sleep again.

     I let myself touch his face, feeling the ridge of his scar as the edge of my lips twisted downwards in a frown. I touched his brows, feeling the roughness of their hairs under my fingertips before pulling my hand away. I got up from bed, deciding that if I was getting any sleep I would have to sleep in my own room. I got into my hunting clothes again, since I hadn't brought a nightgown up with me, before taking the lamp off the nightstand and heading out.

     Troy whined when I was at the door before getting up and following me. "You don't want to stay with him?" I asked, looking down at the greyhound as I closed the door behind us. Troy cocked his head, wagging his tail and letting out his tongue. "Alright then," I said, kneeling to give him a scratch between the ears before getting up and beginning my journey down the hallway.

     I was going to head down right away, but a whine from Tory made me look over to the door. He had started heading in the direction of the west wing, and he looked excited—as if he was expecting me to follow him.

     "We shouldn't—" I started, but paused, realizing that Troy followed Lord Evenus into the West Wing drawing-room all the time. I turned again, starting to walk away but Troy growled, making me look back at him with a frown before staring out towards the doors, noticing that they were opened a bit and that lights were on. For a moment I considered walking over to it.

     To close the door.

     Yes, that and nothing else.

     "I'm going to close the door," I announced to Troy, not sure why I felt the need to defend my decision to a dog. My feet started carrying me in the drawing room's direction before I could change my mind. I was sure I was skipping—desperate to reach the doors before common sense could take hold of me. Troy didn't follow me. The dog ran off, even though he had incited me to do what I was doing.

     My steps grew smaller as I edged closer, and soon, I was face to face with the wooden doors embroidered with metal relief. There was a grown angle on the door, that stared at me with the hollow black indents that were its eyes. The smile was slight. Teasing. I'm sure it was mocking me, so sure of what I would do. I wasn't strong-willed. I was weak, and my thirst for knowledge outweighed my capacity to wait for Lord Evenus to tell me.