Page 112 of The Midnight Order
His fangs glisten in the kitchen’s lights when he opens his mouth to speak. “I said no. You are mine, and you will listen to me.”
I swallow. I wish I weren’t growing aroused by his proximity. I wish even more so that he couldn’t scent that same arousal.
“You can come with us,” I offer weakly. “He’s going to see if he can find out more about me. I should be allowed to go, Lowell.”
His features don’t crack. There’s no weakening him to my plight.
“It makes me crazy to think about you leaving this manor and being away from me.”
My breathing hitches at his admission. This is where I lose the argument.
He’s still teasing his lips over mine, and the moment is heating between us. The air is growing riddled with electricity that our connection creates, and I can’t breathe through it.
“Come with me.”
“I can’t. I don’t leave Blackmoore.”
“Jasper said that you could. Especially now that you’ve found me.”
“Jasper gives me no orders, little lamb.”
“I know that. I was only saying…”
My words die as his hand wraps around the front of my throat. A hiss leaves him, and it’s the first time I’ve genuinely witnessed the threat they pose.
“I don’t leave. I’ve never left. This is my home.”
I manage a nod in his hold, and he loosens it some.
As he realizes what he’s done, the ghosts return to his eyes, and he backs away from me.
“I’m no good for you. But I can’t let you go.”
A long silence stretches between us, where I’m merely trying to control my emotions and breathing.
“I don’t want you to let me go.” I rub my hand over my throat where it aches.
I don’t know if the way he held me or the fact that he relinquished his touch caused the ache. I’m not sure if I want to know the answer.
“Then you’re more ignorant than I thought you were.”
He storms off, leaving the open sliding glass doors before I can even blink the first tear down my cheek.
I don’t know how I will ever be what he needs or whattheyneed if I can’t break through to Lowell.
I know one thing, however: I’m getting on that plane with Jasper.
Chapter 29
Jasper
The airporton the outskirts of town is quaint. Blackmoore isn’t a tourist destination and is magically hidden on all maps, so it’s only used by those of us at Thorngray Manor when necessary. I called Tony last night to ensure that the regular upkeep on the Boeing has been maintained, as we haven’t used it in quite some time.
While Tony was shocked to hear I was leaving Blackmoore—let alone the country—he assured me that the jet had been kept up to par and was ready for such a trip at my beck and call.
We pay him enough. I would have been disappointed had it not been ready, and I would have been even more disappointed to have to let him go. Since no one leaves Blackmoore alive, it would’ve been a pity to set fire to a valuable member of the community.
The car pulls up beside the jet, and I see the pilot and two stewards standing diligently, awaiting my arrival as I step out.
