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I swallow hard, and my mouth suddenly dries. I clasp my hands together to steady myself. Dion’s eyes meet mine, and for a moment, everything else fades away.
We take our seats, and I exchange light banter with Dimitri, our usual dynamic flowing effortlessly as we catch up on each other’s day. My mother has also joined us and is chatting away, seemingly in a better mood than she has been in a few weeks.
My attention keeps drifting back to Atlas, seated beside me, his stoic demeanor casting a shadow over the lively atmosphere. He remains withdrawn, lost in his own thoughts.
I steal glances at him throughout the meal, noting the way his eyes linger on his plate, his silence speaking volumes. And then it hits me—Atlas has spoken to me more than anyone else tonight. It’s a small realization, but it makes me feel oddly special, like a connection is forming between us, one that goes beyond mere sibling ties.
I look around the table, surrounded by some of the people I love most in the world, and my eyes land again on a pair that always steals the air from my lungs.
Dion’s stare on me is like a physical touch, making me want to combust into my chair.
Dinner passes in a blur, my attention divided between polite conversation and the magnetic pull I feel toward Dion.
Though as we gather in the living area afterward, I somehow lose sight of him amidst the chatter and movement. Did he leave already, without saying anything? The uncertainty nags at me, fueling my decision to retreat to my room for the night. I murmur my goodbyes to Atlas, promising to keep in touch, before slipping away.
Once inside my bedroom, I remove my clothes and collapse onto the bed, relief flooding through me. But the solitude doesn’t bring the calm I crave. I close my eyes briefly, mustering the energy to remove my makeup and shower.
The creak of my door opening jolts me from my thoughts, my heart leaping into my throat. Dion’s sudden appearance catches me off guard, and I scramble to my feet.
His gaze travels over me, slowly, deliberately, making my skin tingle everywhere his eyes land. I can feel my heart pounding, each beat echoing in my ears. I instinctively wrap my arms around myself, but it does little to hide the fact that I’m practically naked in front of him.
“Dion!” I manage to gasp. “What are you doing here?” I blurt out, my voice shaky.
Dion steps further into the room, his large figure filling the doorway.
His breath comes in ragged bursts, his chest rising and falling with each inhale.
The air crackles with tension, his presence overwhelming, yet intoxicating. My body reacts, heat rising beneath my skin as I back up, the edge of the bed now pressed against my legs.
He blinks, as if snapping out of a trance, and finally averts his eyes. But not before I see a flicker of something in them—something raw and powerful that makes my heart skip a beat.
His gaze then locks onto the bruise marring my arm. “What is that?”
I swallow hard. Fuck. I didn’t conceal the mark as I decided to wear a long-sleeved top to dinner.
I still have proof of Andrew’s aggression when he visited me in the hospital before I got discharged. I figured it would be barely visible by now, but nothing gets past Dion.
“It’s nothing,” I mumble, attempting to brush off his concern. But his proximity is suffocating, and I sink onto the edge of the bed.
Dion closes the door behind him. His eyes never leave mine, and I feel a shiver race down my spine.
“It doesn’t look like nothing,” he seethes, his voice low and husky. “Did Andrew do this to you?” he asks, his tone tight with suppressed fury.
I hesitate.
“Tell me,” he demands, his words coming out shaky with anger.
I shrink under his intense gaze. As he hovers above me, I struggle to find the words to explain, my pulse thundering in my ears. Instead of responding, my eyes dart away, the silent pause giving it away, and Dion loses it.
“I fucking knew it. I’m going to kill him with my bare hands!” he shouts, his fists clenching at his sides. “He’s dead. He’s fucking dead.”
“Dion, please,” I beg, grabbing his arm. “Don’t do anything. It’s complicated,” I stammer. But Dion’s gaze remains unwavering.
“Complicated? The only thing complicated here is deciding how I’m going to make him pay for every bruise, every moment of fear he’s caused you. I had a feeling he’d been hurting you and now he’s going to pay tenfold.”
“No!” I shout. “He’ll hurt us.”
Dion’s eyes widen in shock. “What the fuck do you mean?”
