Page 100 of Born for Lace

“It pains me to see…” His eyes follow a cool tear as it rolls over my lips. “Tears. But I am pleased he didn’t touch you. You’re mine.”

Every cell in my body wars—I’m glad it was Lagos’, but I’m deeply lost. “You were so… so vulgar about it.”

“I shouldn’t have been.” His dark eyes map a course across my face, soft.

“Was it vulgar?” I ask.

“No.” His jaw pulses. “No, it wasn’t. I will hold that memory forever. I told you it wasn’t your fault, what I took from you. I don’t regret it. I’d do it again.”

Blinking, I let all the information settle in my mind. I nod slowly, half-accepting his words while burying the unease. This isn’t a fairytale. This is life in The Cradle, and he isn’t human. He won’t always act the same as me or think the same as me. “I have to feed Spero,” I say.

“Fine.” He gazes at me for a moment longer than usual, and I almost see the affection pour from him. The same kind I feel when I look at him. Not just animal instinct, nor pleasure and possession, but wholesome, selfless affection.

He sighs hard before shifting his eyes to the door and striding toward it.

“Don’t hurt him!” I blurt out.

He stops with his back to me, shoulders bunching, tension stalking across them.

“Please.” I swallow. “Tomar cares for Spero and me… andyou. Please.”

“I’m not going to hurt him,” he says, reaching for the door handle.

“Where are you going, then?”

He edges around to face me, a slight grin touching his mouth. And that somehow makes him appear a decade younger. “Is this how it goes now?” he asks, his tone deep and gravelly. “Do you have my balls? Do I need to inform you of my comings and goings, little flower? Have I made my obsession too obvious?”

Obsessed.

With… with me?

Warmth moves through me. “No. Sorry.”

His dark gaze drips the length of my body, before he huffs an amused sound. Almost to himself. “Because I am.Obsessed.” His eyes meet mine. “So, if that’s what you want… I’m going to shower, then take apart the cars out there and salvage the pieces. Is that acceptable to you,little flower?”

I hiccup a short giggle, my cheeks full-blown furnaces, and a little piece of unease drops into oblivion. “Very acceptable,brute.”

He nods toward Spero and says, “Don’t just feed the Shadow baby?—”

“Spero.”

“Feed yourself,” he finishes curt. “Properly. There is fish, and it looks like Tomar found cans. Could be spaghetti. Eat, or I will force-feed you.”

ChapterThirty-One

Dahlia

I’m not sure at what point I turned into an animal. The desert has transformed me, unravelled me. I understand the appeal of being a House Girl now. The endorphins of lust and love. It is addictive—the excitement of maybe he likes me, the angst of maybe he doesn’t, the visceral memory of him thrusting into me, flooding me with emotions. I can feel the absence of him… inside.

Before I left the Half-tower, I was sensible and preoccupied with sewing and singing, but now I find myself gazing at Lagos as he pulls apart the old vehicle in the barn.

Only occupied by him right now. By his shoulders as they expand with each breath. By the sweat that follows the thick curve of his bicep and the way he uses his forearm to wipe at his brow.

My temperature rises.

My eyes are lost in the virile vision ahead of me as I sit on a bench in the barn with my legs crossed. His huge black shirt is pulled over my knees. Underneath, I only have knickers on. My mask is beside me on the ledge, but I don’t need it in here. I chew absently on a protein bar Tomar found. It’s chocolate, sweet and bitter, but my mouth waters to know what Lagos’ skin tastes like right now. While beads of salty perspiration collect along his muscles. I have never seen a man working outside of their Purpose. My Ward was an old Fisher with small muscles and simple, plain features.

I shuffle, my swollen core and lower belly clenching. “How long will this take?” I ask, embarrassingly breathless.

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