Page 36 of The Devil's Canvas

His lips twitch. "Can’t or won’t?"

"Both."

For the second time, he doesn’t have a response ready. Not an easy one, at least. He studies me, gaze sharper now, like he’s picking me apart thread by thread.

"Open up," he says.

I frown. "Do what?"

"Stop blocking me. Show me how you feel."

I narrow my eyes, if this is true, if he can sense me, he should know that I can’t. "You can do that?"

He just waits, like he already knows I’ll try. And maybe I will. Maybe it’s worth a shot, just to prove something to myself.

So, I stop fighting it. Stop keeping everything buried so deep inside me that I can barely feel it myself. Instead, I push—not words, not explanations, just raw emotion, like shoving open a locked door and letting him see inside.

Julian doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t move.

His lips part slightly. Just for a second. A slow inhale, controlled but not entirely unaffected. "Well, I guess fear isn’t your main emotion. More like determination."

I hold his gaze. "Because if this is forever, I’m not going to be the one to break first."

Something in his eyes flickers—something dark, knowing. "Careful, sweetheart. That sounds a lot like a challenge."

I don’t blink. "Maybe it is."

A slow smirk stretches across his lips, like he’s savoring every second of this. "But you don’t like me," he says.

I scoff. "Fuck no."

His amusement deepens. "Why?"

It’s the way he says it—genuine, like the idea is incomprehensible. Like no one has ever not liked him before. And maybe they haven’t. He’s hot, probably gets whatever he wants, whenever he wants it, especially from women.

I let the silence drag before answering, just to watch him wait. "You’re arrogant. You talk like I’m supposed to just accept all of this because you said so."

His eyes show more curiosity than anything else now. "Anything else?"

"I’m sure you’ve used this exact thing plenty of times to get women to do what you want," I say, crossing my arms, my voice sharp,I don’t want him to see the uncertainty.

Julian laughs—quiet, low, amused. “You think I need the bond for that?” His gaze rakes over me, deliberate. “I don’t force. I don’t chase. They come to me.”

My fingers twitch at my sides, my pulse kicking up despite the flat look I shoot him. "Why are you following me?"

Julian tilts his head, considering me, his smirk never fading. "Who said I’m following you?"

"You’re always there," I snap. "Always watching. Always waiting. If it’s not the bond, what is it?"

That lands. Not in a way that fazes him, but in a way that interests him. Like he’s just found something worth pulling apart. "And that bothers you?"

I straighten my shoulders, refusing to let him see the way my stomach tightens. "Yeah, it does. You act like this is already said and done. Like I don’t have a say. But I’m not going down without a fight."

Julian studies me for a moment longer. Then his voice dips, velvet over flame. “Good. I’d hate for this to be too easy.”

He makes a show of breathing out like I’m the exhausting one, then tilts his head. “You’re so sure you don’t like me, aren’t you?”

I don’t hesitate. "I know I don’t."

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