Page 31 of Coveted

“Maybe it’s courtship.”

The shudder I’ve been suppressing comes out, racking my body. “Yeah, okay. Freak.”

Bringing the whiskey glass to my mouth, I pause.

What if he’s drugging me? No one at Altar would dare step in. The bouncers clearly exist to serve members, not guests.

Noticing my hesitation, Lucan swaps our glasses. He takes a theatrical swig of mine and swallows.

“I don’t need to drug you to make you mine,” he says.

With a rough tug, I take my glass back. “But otherwise you would?”

I gulp the whiskey, the burning liquid a welcome distraction.

Lucan pushes the sleeves of his charcoal sweater to his elbows. The threads of his forearm muscles shift as he turns his tumbler in his hand.

“You speak about me with such confidence,” he says quietly. “Like you know me.”

The contemplation in his voice makes me more uncomfortable than when he sneers.

“What’s to know?” I retort.

But my attempt at snark falls flat. His moment of apparent sincerity took the sting out of it.

Is he trying to manipulate me? Make me drop my defenses?

I get no answers though. He just continues staring at me as if he’s reading my soul and darkest thoughts.

How does he do that?

Fortified by the alcohol, I hold his intense gaze.

“What do you want?” I ask. “Why did you ask me here?”

“You need my help,” he says simply.

“With what? Learning how to be a gigantic ass? Because I can’t see what else you might be good for.”

His eyes twinkle and his lips flatten briefly, like he’s trying not to laugh. “Is that so?”

“It is.” I pause. “Help with what?” I repeat.

“You’re in danger of a broken neck.”

An icy chill steals over me, killing the whiskey’s fire. “From who? You?”

My roommates are right about him. He’s heartless. Hazardous.

Zahra warned me in class too. Why didn’t I listen to any of them?

Lucan’s features harden like stone. “You think I murdered my cousin?”

“Everyone does,” I say with confidence.

“I’m not talking to everyone, Sadie. I’m talking to you.” His energy crackles in the air, like the moment before lightning strikes. “Do you think I killed my own blood?”

My confidence falters at the passion in his eyes. He seems genuinely anguished.