Page 36 of Sacrifice
And just like that, we fall into a normal sibling conversation.
But even as Soren regales me with college stories, I can't shake the feeling of being watched. Can't stop thinking about Emil's texts, his touches, his absolute certainty that I belong to him.
The worst part?
A traitorous part of me is starting to wonder if he's right.
But I'll be damned if I admit it. To him or anyone else. Let him chase. Let him scare off every man in Tallahassee.
I'm not giving in.
Not yet.
Maybe not ever.
Probably.
Fuck.
CHAPTER FOUR
Emil
I watch her from the doorway, trying to focus on Magnus talking about patrol schedules, but failing miserably.
Saga's by the fire pit now, laughing at something her brother said, head thrown back, skin glowing in the firelight.
Her dark hair catches the orange light, falling in waves past her shoulders like spilled ink.
Even in just a tank top and denim shorts—nothing fancy, nothing trying—she looks like she stepped out of a magazine.
Long legs that go on forever, curves that make my hands itch to touch, and that unconscious grace she carries without even knowing it.
She could be wearing a garbage bag and still make every other woman here look ordinary.
But it's more than the physical.
It's the way she commands space without trying, the way she laughs with her whole body, the way she's completely oblivious to how every man in the vicinity tracks her movements.
Natural. Unforced. Fucking perfect.
She's beautiful.
"You listening?" Magnus asks, though his tone says he knows I'm not.
"Yeah. Patrols. Schedules." I force my attention back to him. "Two-man teams, overlapping routes."
"That was five minutes ago. I asked if you can take the morning shift tomorrow."
"Sure." My eyes drift back to Saga.
She's checking her phone, probably reading my last text from the way her face flushes.
Good. Let her think about me in her bed tonight. Let her imagine what I'd do if I were there.
"Gods, you've got it bad," Magnus mutters. "Just go talk to her."
"We talked earlier."
