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Razai waited while I collapsed under the weight of my own self-disgust. When he spoke, his words were tight with fury. “When you’re done victimizing yourself, allow me to explain my own godsdamn power before you go running off into the sunset with your accusations.”
“Oh yeah? Why don’t you, then? Why don’t you make it all make sense, because from my perspective, it’s a little too obvious about what your powers do.”
“So let me get this straight. You think that I’ve been coercing you with my magic to make decisions and act in ways that go against your natural will. Is that correct?”
“Wow. Thanks for paying attention in class. What a star student you are,” I snapped. Like I’d ever in my right mind kiss a man whom I’d thought an archangel.
Clearly, he’d been influencing me the entire time.
“Well, Professor. Maybe you should pause before assuming you have all the answers.”
“How can you make this any different?” I demanded. “How can you possibly convince me that every time I kissed you, every time I went along with your ideas, or every time I acted completely out of character, that it wasn’t just you?”
Part of me wanted to be wrong. I thought that I’d grown this past month. Had any of this been my choice?
And the things I’ve said to Azra about needing more… they were true. Still, my life with her at the cafe hasn’t been as fulfilling as we’ve both wanted. That, at least, was real.
And my only solace.
“My powers,” Razai stated glacially, “are not based in persuading people against their will. My powers are in persuading people toward their truest desires.” He shoved his hands in his pockets, the casual posture somehow making him look more imposing.
Truest desires? “And what if I don’t believe you?” I shot back.
“Tough shit. That’s how my power works. That is the beginning and the end. I don’t coerce people. And honestly?” He moved closer. Too close. He snatched a lock of my hair, twirling it around a finger. “When it came down to it, you hardly needed any push at all.”
He tugged, and I suppressed the urge to spit in his face. “You lied to me,” I reminded, struggling to keep control over my anger. “You murdered Benjamin and hired me for a fake job. It’s like you’re a psychopath returning to the scene of the crime so you can play with the bodies after. It’s sick.”
He shrugged. “That was a necessary evil.”
“For what?”
His bitter laugh rattled my bones. Moonstone hair fell over his wide, furious eyes. “I’ve killed more people than that weasel, Benjamin Castile. I’ve carved more faces than Cole Highland’s, and for lesser reasons, Gray. Do you understand what I’m saying? In fact, the only reason why I didn’t do worse to Cole? Why I didn’t unleash the rage I felt at the sight of him touching you?”
The chill in his tone made me shiver. I’d never seen him so serious.
“If you’re trying to scare me, try harder,” I blustered. I was rattled, though.
He bared his teeth in a vicious smile. “I’ve done vile things in my life, Gray. I am not a good man by any definition. But my worst offense against you?” He closed the distance suddenly, leaving only a sliver of space between us. “The worst I’ve done is nudge you toward the things you want most.”
The implications of his words were clear. It wasn’t his fault that I’d wanted to be risky. Not his fault that I was attracted to him.
My gaze dropped to his lips. For a moment, I faltered. His warmth enveloped me. His scent filled my nose. Even as I scorned myself, my body leaned into his. It was as if he’d tied a string around my middle and slowly reeled me in.
I faltered.
“What are you doing to me?” I gasped, clenching my fists so I wouldn’t touch him.
He caressed my shoulder, and fuck if I didn’t want to push into it. “Demonic races connect in unique ways. For demons, we bond through touch. Closeness. Physical intimacy. These things are healing and comforting to our species, especially with those close to you. It’s not always sexual, but it can be.”
His hand moved to my neck, trailing gently. Achingly slow.
Gooseflesh broke out across my skin. Warmth bloomed inside me against my will, and all I could think about was the way he felt between my legs. His hands in my hair, his fingers digging into my hips. The way he tasted.
It was all too much to fight. Did he have me in a thrall? Why hadn’t I ever heard of this touch phenomenon? I’d accuse him of lying, but everything in my core bent me toward this man. “Stop,” I gritted out, only because I couldn’t pull away. He drew me in with a siren’s song I couldn’t hear. Couldn’t escape.
“See, that’s the thing, Gray. The way you’re leaning into me?” he growled, clasping my throat. “It begs me to keep going.” His grip tightened painfully on my neck.
So, why did he look agonized?
