Page 22 of His Dark Cravings

But with each passing minute, the evening presses down on me. The constant attention, the subtle touches from strangers who think they have the right, the stifling heat that clings to me like a shroud. I want to escape, to slip away from this glittering nightmare and find a quiet corner to breathe.

Then, the inevitable happens. A woman with a smirk and a dress that hugs her body like a glove sidles up to us, her eyes narrowing as she takes me in.

"So, this is the new toy," she says, her voice laced with venom. "I didn't know they were letting in the local church mice these days."

Xavier's arm tightens around me, and I feel a surge of adrenaline as he steps forward. But to my surprise, he doesn't lash out. Instead, he tilts his head, a slow smile unfurling on his lips.

"Careful, Aja," he warns, his voice light but with an undercurrent of something sharper. "Some things are worth more than you think."

Her smirk falters, and for a moment, I see the flicker of fear in her eyes before she masks it. "Oh, I'm shakin' in my boots," she snarls, but she backs away, melting into the crowd.

Xavier watches her go before turning to me.

"Shall we?" he asks, low and smooth, but I can see the edge of tension in the way he holds himself. I nod, mute, following him as he navigates the throng with ease, leaving the woman and her catty remark in the dust.

The remainder of the evening blurs together in a haze of sounds and faces, each more forgettable than the last. I drink a glass of wine, the taste sharp but comforting, and try to find a footing in this maze of social politics. Xavier stays close, his presence a strange kind of anchor in this sea of strangers.

When we finally leave, the cool night air is a relief, slicing through the artificial warmth of the casino. I wrap my arms around myself. Xavier notices, reaching out to place a hand on my shoulder, the touch grounding in a way I didn't expect.

Back at the mansion, the quiet envelops us. I pause in the living room, hesitating, but Xavier catches my hand before I can retreat.

"A minute," he says, his voice carrying a command I can't ignore. I nod, following him to the lounge, the room dim but for the soft glow of a single lamp.

The door closes behind me, and I take a deep breath, my heart pounding in my ears. This whole outing has been about wearing a mask, presenting myself in just the right way. But for the first time, I let my emotions flow.

"Why tonight?" I bark, surprising even myself. "What was that all about?"

He leans against the desk, watching me. "You needed to see," he says simply, like that's explanation enough. "Needed to understand."

I take a step forward, boldness spurring me on. "Understand what? That you’re the king of that place? That people there don’t care who they step on to get what they want? I already knew that."

A flicker of emotion crosses his face, but he quickly masks it. "Understand me," he corrects, his voice soft but with an edge. "I'm trying to show you a different part of me, Everly. This is who I am."

"But why drag me into that world?" I press, my voice shaking now, the reality of my situation hitting me with full force. "Why make me go through that?"

He straightens up, pushing off from the desk with a fluid motion. "Because you should know the world I belong to. You should know how close you are to it. And you need to know how much attention you'll attract."

His words catch me off guard. I feel a surge of confusion. It's like this was a test somehow. He knows I'd hate that kind of environment, this kind of dress. So is he challenging me to leave? Punishing me? Why?

I step closer, my heart a wild thing in my chest, and meet his gaze. "Yeah, I guess I should be aware of that. I attracted your attention, after all, and look where that's gotten me."

Even though I'm trying to provoke him, he says nothing, his eyes locked on mine. Then, slowly, he nods.

"Yes. You have attracted my attention."

With that, he turns away, leaving me alone in the glow of the lamp, the weight of his words settling around me like chains.

Or maybe wings.

Chapter 8

Everly

When I wake up the next morning, the echoes of last night’s events are still playing in my mind. But that's not what makes me so alert. When I listen, Xavier’s home is alive with the sound of footsteps, voices hushed but urgent. I toss off the covers, my anxiety already spiking as I wander into the hallway. Even on the lower floor, the house is a whirlwind of activity.

I catch Winter as she hurries past, her platinum bob swinging. "What's going on?" I ask, my voice rising over the din.

She glances at me, her expression softening despite the hectic pace. "Xavier has a gathering tonight. It’s a private dinner party." She pauses, evaluating me. "You don’t need to do much, just be there. Your outfit is ready in the living room. Come on, let's go."

---