Page 81 of Unseen Eye
“Or they’ll just think you pissed me off,” he counters, though his expression softens slightly.
I can’t resist asking the question that’s been burning in my mind. “Do you know what the Survivors want?” I’m still in theblood-soaked clothes, the dried stains heavy on my skin.
“No,” Callon snaps, “but I intend to find out.” He unlocks the door with a flick of his wrist and holds it open for me.
“Ever so polite,” I joke, kicking off my bloodied shoes. “If only Baron knew you had such manners,” I say with a laugh.
“Don’t mention him tonight,” Callon says. The stormy look in his eyes returning. “The extra bedroom is upstairs on the left. It has a washroom. I’ll be up shortly to see if you need anything.” He gives me one last look before turning away.
I make my way upstairs and find the space is just as nicely decorated as downstairs. The bedroom is basic—a large bed, a dresser off to the side, and an empty bookshelf gathering dust in the corner, a sign of how little this room is used.
After washing the blood off, I realize Callon still has my sack of clothes, so I pull on an oversized shirt I found in one of the dresser drawers. The fabric hangs loose, unfamiliar, but at least it’s clean. I’m combing my hair when there’s a soft knock on the door.
“Hey—” Callon starts as I open the door, but he stops dead when he sees me—what I’m wearing, or rather, the lack of it. His eyes darken, flicking over me as if trying to take in every detail all at once. He clears his throat, visibly gathering himself. “I know it’s late, but I thought you might be hungry. You didn’t eat much today.”
My heart flutters as I take the plate from him, and notice the sack of my clothes in his other hand. The thought of food turns my stomach, but the gesture is so sweet I can’t help but smile. “Thanks,” I reply, setting the plate down on the dresser as he steps in.
“Sorry about the mess in here,” he says, glancing around. “Not many people use this room.”
I open my mouth to respond, then pause, realizing what he’s implying. Not many people use this room—because they’re inhis room instead. “Well, hopefully, you don’t have any guests coming tonight,” I reply, trying not to sound jealous, but pretty sure I fail. Epically.
He stares at me for a moment, amusement playing at the edges of his mouth before it tilts into a smirk. “Why, Eva, jealousy isn’t becoming of you. Don’t worry, you’re my only guest tonight.” His voice dips, rich and steady, lingering on guest in a way that makes the room feel much warmer.
I find myself unable to look away. His confidence, the way he carries himself with that effortless command, is undeniable—and devastatingly attractive. The sharp angles of his jaw, the way his hair falls slightly tousled, and the way his shirt clings to his muscular frame make my heart pound in my chest.
He’s changed, now wearing a white shirt that hints at the strength beneath, paired with loose sleeping pants that somehow make him look even more tempting. He stands there, making it impossible to think about anything else but how agonizingly close we are. His gaze draws me in, and I feel like I’m helplessly caught in his orbit.
But a part of me holds back, a stubborn voice whispering that he’s too good, that I’m foolish to think I could matter to someone like him. Why would he want someone like me, with all my problems and doubts? And if I let myself go, if I let myself feel everything that’s been simmering between us, it’s like handing him a map of every wound I’ve ever had. What if he sees me clearly and regrets it?
Still, he stands there, impossibly close, and it’s as if he’s a flame, drawing me toward him, too powerful to resist. My heart pounds, and the tension between us thickens. I should stop this—before it gets too deep, before I lose the strength to pull away. But gods, he’s beautiful, and I need him to touch me.
The urge to sleep is suddenly gone, replaced with another feeling—greed. I lean forward, closing the last few inchesbetween us, and his gaze sharpens, raking down my body, lingering on my breasts. My breath hitches as I wonder if he deliberately left out a bra when packing my things. His body tenses, his breathing grows ragged, and the look in his eyes tells me everything I need to know. He needs this, needs me, just as badly as I need him.
I wrap my arms around his shoulders, feeling the tension tighten in him. His gaze flickers back to my eyes, and his breathing shifts, deepening with every breath. I can see the struggle in his eyes—a battle I’m determined to win.
I’m done waiting, done letting him decide what’s best for me. There was a dead body in my room today—if that’s not a wake-up call about how short life is, I don’t know what is. Fuck reason, I’m done waiting.
With that, I surge forward on my toes and kiss him. He freezes for a fraction of a second before his instincts take over, his arms tightening around me, pulling me flush against him. A grin tugs at my mouth, and I can almost picture the midnight-blue of his eyes, intense and dark, like the night I first saw him—when he was a stranger cloaked in mystery. And now, somehow, he’s the one person I want to risk it all for.
He tries to pull away, but I don’t let him, angling my head to deepen the kiss. He groans against my lips, his tongue stroking mine and leaving nothing unexplored. When he tries to pull away again, I let him, not having enough common sense left to stop him. That kiss has turned me into a complete idiot, unable to focus on anything but him. He presses his forehead against mine. “Eva,” he whispers between ragged breaths, “you really don’t want this. I’m trying to protect you.”
“I don’t need protection,” I plead, my voice barely a whisper as I press myself closer. “I just need you.” My lips trail down his jaw, then lower, leaving a path of heat along his neck. I linger where his neck meets his shoulder, feeling his pulse race undermy touch. “Danger’s going to find me whether you’re with me or not, so accept it. I. Want. You. I. Need. You.” I punctuate each word with a kiss, making my way back up, savoring every shiver that runs through him.
“Evil little thing,” he groans, but something breaks in him. He gives in, and suddenly his mouth is on mine, and if I thought the last kiss was searing, this one is wildfire. My fingers weave through his hair, playing with the strands I’ve dreamed of touching for so long. I catch his bottom lip between my teeth, teasing, feeling his control slip. And then he snaps.
He grabs my ass and spins me around against the wall. Hard. The shirt I am wearing rides up past my navel, leaving my black panties on full display. Oh gods, I might just die at this moment. I wrap my legs around him and instantly feel how hard he is. I gasp against his lips, causing him to laugh. I arch, using the wall for leverage as I move against him, desperate for the friction, for his touch.
“You like that, do you, darling?” he taunts, his voice a low, teasing murmur as his mouth trails down my neck. He takes his time, finding each place that makes me shiver, that makes me weak under him. “Every. Damn. Day,” he growls between kisses, mimicking my earlier actions with a smirk. “You look at me, and all I can think about are those gorgeous violet eyes, those lush lips moaning my name, wanting me.”
His breath is hot against my skin, his words sending electricity through me. “And that wicked mouth of yours,” he murmurs, his lips brushing along my collarbone. “I wonder if it’s as sinful in other places.” He guides my hand down, lower and lower, letting me feel the effect I have on him, the hard proof of his desire.
My heart races as he presses into me, his hand on my waist possessive and firm. There, against the wall, with his body claiming mine, I’m lost in him. “I always fucking need you,” he says, his voice rough. His eyes dark as he takes me in—the flushin my cheeks, the tremor in my breaths. And there he is, Callon, heir of Coire, brought to his knees by me, as much as I am by him.
I begin to squeeze and stroke him, causing him to groan against my lips. I pull back just far enough to see those midnight blue eyes, full of sparks as if the stars themselves are there. “You’re beautiful,” I whisper, unable to look away.
“So I have been told,” he says with a laugh, unable to look away from me either. Suddenly we are on the move again, and my back is against the bed, with him instantly on top of me. Within mere seconds, my shirt is gone, leaving me completely exposed from the waist up. Those midnight eyes take in every inch of my body.
“So fucking gorgeous,” he purrs.
