Gideon

LAYLA

I’m still chewing my lip when my phone notifies me of another new message.

My eyes travel from Derek, who’s still waiting for my reply, to my phone, then back to Derek—and back to the phone.

I’m sure the message is from Gideon, and I’m dying to read it.

But instead of reaching for my phone, I fidget with the edge of my scarf—the one I wound around my neck to hide the multiple marks left by Gideon’s mouth.

Derek rolls his eyes. “Seriously, what other twenty-two-year-old adult cancels dates to go home to her mommy every weekend? You don’t even have a life outsi—”

“Hey, that’s out of line!” I snap. How dare he judge me like that. “You don’t understand.”

“Yes, you’re right. I don’t understand,” he says, lifting both hands. “And I’m sorry. That was out of line.”

He grabs his messenger bag and gathers his books. “I have a class. Text me if you still want to go out. Otherwise, I’ll see you…whenever.”

He still has another fifteen minutes before his next class starts—I should know because I’m in the same class. Plenty of time still. He’s just too pissed to deal with me right now.

But he was out of line. Even though we’ve been friends for over a year now, he’s ~not~ my boyfriend. But ever since he told me he liked me, he’s been acting as if he knows me better than anyone.

He doesn’t know me at all, though. Not really. I’m very tight-lipped about myself and my family.

When you grow up in a pack and more than half of your family members are werewolves, you learn not to run your mouth.

Still, I can’t help but feel guilty as I watch him walk away. Despite not feeling anything for him, I agreed to go out with him every time he asked—only to cancel a day or two later.

I’m the worst.

The thing is, I honestly thought I might like him back if I gave it a chance. He’s a good guy and a good friend—I could do much worse.

But now that I’ve met Gideon, I know what it feels like to really want someone.

Sure, Derek doesn’t have Gideon’s gorgeous, sexy look, but who does? The thing is, it’s not just his looks. Everything about Gideon is like a magnet to me.

The way he smells, the way he moves, the touch of his skin on mine…even the air feels electric when he’s around.

He makes my heart beat faster and my skin tingle, and my brain turns to mush whenever our eyes meet.

I can’t get him out of my head. I crave him. I don’t think anyone else could ever come close to giving me those feelings.

Thinking of him reminds me of the two texts I haven’t read, and my hand reaches for my phone like an addict looking for the next fix.

My body sings with excitement. It feels like forever since he dropped me off last night instead of just fifteen hours and twenty-three minutes ago.

But hey, who’s counting, right?

I’m very tempted, but…

I sling the straps of my laptop and camera bags over my shoulder, then slip the phone into my pocket and walk across campus to my next class.

Derek and I usually sit together, but today he’s sitting way at the back. I take my regular seat.

As soon as class is over, he rushes to gather his stuff.

“Trouble in paradise?”

I turn to see one of my classmates craning her neck to look at Derek, who’s walking out the door without sparing me a glance.

“A lovers’ tiff, perhaps?”

I can tell she’s been dying to ask that question since the beginning of class. I look at her with a frown. “We’re not a couple, Jasmin.”

“Did Derek get that memo?” Lisa chimes in. She’s been standing by my table, clearly eavesdropping.

“We’re just friends.”

I hear my phone ding, but I’m not going to read it while my two nosy classmates are staring down at me.

Jasmin smiles slyly. “Sure, if you insist.”

“What does that mean?” I ask, feeling miffed. My hand closes around the phone in my pocket, but I make myself let it go, then gather my stuff into my bag.

“I’m pretty sure everyone in this class thought you two were an item,” explains Lisa in a kinder tone.

“Nope, just friends.”

I get up from my seat. I’m not close to Jasmin or Lisa, and I’m pretty sure they stopped to talk to me today just to get some juicy gossip.

They glance at each other, then Jasmin says, “Well, it sure seems like he’s mad at you for something.”

“He probably just has something on his mind.” I sling my bags over my shoulder, and they take the hint and walk away, clearly disappointed with my answer.

I follow slowly, trying to keep a good distance from them in case they decide to interrogate me further.

Those two need a new hobby—should I suggest panty collecting?

I sigh with relief when I get outside. I didn’t realize how trapped I was feeling inside the classroom.

“Oh my God…look at that man candy,” I hear Jasmin whisper. She stops right in the middle of the walkway—and I almost crash into her.

“Oh, wow!” Lisa says.

Something stirs inside me. I walk around Jasmin, and my gaze lands on a tall figure leaning against a shiny, silver Alfa Romeo.

My heart goes into a frenzy.

There are lots of students rushing about, and he’s drawing attention. People—especially women—are giving him a second—and a third—glance, and some even stop just to stare at him.

He doesn’t even look real; he looks like a model come to life right out of the pages of a magazine.

He’s wearing a black suit with a red silk tie this time, and his bronze hair looks perfect despite the gathering wind.

His unusual eyes are covered by a pair of dark sunglasses, but somehow I know the exact moment his eyes lock onto me.

“He’s looking this way,” I hear Jasmin say, but her voice barely registers.

When I take a few hesitant steps toward him, he straightens up and lifts his sunglasses, revealing his intense, golden-yellow gaze.

God, he’s so beautiful—it hurts just to look at him.

I keep going, and the air around us thickens as I approach—swirling with electricity like the moment before a storm. His eyes are now fixed on the scarf around my neck.

“What are you doing here?” I ask when I get close enough.

“I’m coming to take you out for dinner.” He takes a step toward me as if he can’t bear the space between us.

“But I told you I’m working tonight.”

“You don’t start until nine, and you still need to eat. I’ll drive you to work after.”

He takes another step, and now our toes are almost touching. “Besides, we still need to talk, and I don’t want you to be out walking and waiting for the bus alone at night.”

“And one other thing,” he says, and my breath falters when his hand reaches out to grip the scarf around my neck. “Why are you covering these up, Layla?”

He pulls the scarf off and curls his fingers around the base of my throat. I can feel his thumb pressing on my pulse.

“You’re drawing attention,” I tell him, my heart rate quickening.

He leans in, and my eyelids flutter closed when I feel his warm breath on my cheek. “They don’t matter. They can look all they want. But this…”

His thumb slides over my skin to rub gently over one of the marks he gave me last night. “I gave you these marks for a reason. My lycan doesn’t like it when you cover them up.”

I open my eyes and swallow nervously. “Maybe I should mark you up too. How would you feel about me doing that to your neck?”

I was going for a joke to cut tension, but I think it backfires because his face changes instantly. I’m pretty sure I hear a low, feral growl coming from him as he quickly opens the passenger-side door and ushers me inside, then rounds the car and slides into the driver’s seat in record time.

As soon as he closes the door, he turns to me and flashes a wild, wolfish smile.

I gasp. His eyes are dark now. And his white teeth look sharper, his canines more prominent.

“It’s dangerous to tease me like that, Layla.” His voice is much deeper than usual. “And yes, I’d like that very much. I’m yours. Mark me anytime you want.”

A shiver runs down my spine.

And it’s not from fear.

***

“I thought you said you only had that one car with you. The Lykan Hypersport?” I wipe my mouth with my napkin and place it on my plate.

We ended up having dinner close to the beach, at Joey’s Seafood Shack.

It’s a far cry from the restaurant we went to last night—the walls are a garish yellow stucco, the art is tacky, and the seats are white, hard plastic—but the food is good.

Gideon seems comfortable, but he looks very out of place here. Even without his jacket and tie. And even though a few top buttons of his snowy-white dress shirt are undone and the sleeves are rolled up to his elbows.

“My friend has several cars. Since you didn’t fancy the one last night, I thought you might like this one a little better.”

“You really didn’t have to do that.”

“I know,” he says. “Let’s go for a walk.” And suddenly he’s on his feet, holding the back of my chair.

He pays the bill at the counter, then takes my hand in his and leads me to the beach. We walk in silence, just listening to the waves crashing on the shore.

The sun has gone down—there’s just a hint of an orange glow low in the sky—but the streetlights are bright enough for me to see the stretch of sandy beach before us. My hand is still wrapped in his.

“Layla. I might have to leave soon.”

My heart sinks. “Where are you going?” Thankfully, my voice sounds steady.

He’s silent for a while before he answers. “I don’t know if you’ve heard about what’s going on at the palace right now.”

I shake my head. My family sometimes talks about the royal family—just rumors and gossip—and I heard that the crown prince had refused to take a mate and take over the throne, but I haven’t heard anything lately.

“Remember that I told you I’m working with the palace? Well, it seems Caspian has met his erasthai and I might have to go back to Banehallow Palace at any time. His parents will want to discuss him being crowned king now.”

“But I thought the crown prince didn’t want to be king.”

“Caspian didn’t want the crown before he met his erasthai, Quincy, but now…”

Wait… What?