“Is that so?” Jonathan’s gaze falls back on me. I feel it without having to look up. And I won’t look up. That’s like signing my own death certificate.
He’s studying me. Actually, no. It’s more like he’s sampling me before he pounces like a hungry predator.
Only, I’m not his prey.
It’s been a long time since I swore to never be anyone’s prey again.
I already brought down one predator in my life and I’ll do it all over again if I have to. Consequences and nightmares be damned.
However, having Jonathan King as an opponent is the last thing I want. There’s being brave and then there’s being downright foolish.
Challenging the king in his kingdom is the latter.
It’s how messengers sent by monarchs got their heads chopped off and hanged on the entry of the capital for everyone to see.
“If you’ll excuse us,” Ethan says, “Aurora was in the midst of telling me something.”
“Aurora,” Jonathan muses. “That’s not the right name, though, is it?”
Shit.
Fuck.
Damn it!
I feel as if I’m about to vomit my guts out as I peek up at him. He’s watching me with a cool, almost manic expression that betrays nothing of his thoughts. But I can feel it loud and clear.
He knows.
He remembers.
My fingers shake around the flute and it takes everything in me to place it on the table without spilling it and making a fool out of myself.
“Did you not hear the part where you should excuse us?” Ethan raises a brow.
“I did. Though, as it happens, I don’t take orders.” Jonathan is speaking to Ethan, but his entire attention falls on me.
Impenetrable.
Unemotional.
Unmoving.
With each passing second, his focus hones, turning harsher and darker. If anything, it becomes lethal with the intention of destruction.
A god about to unleash his wrath.
I need out of here. Now.
Plastering on a smile, I face Ethan. “I’ll go search for Agnus. I have your card, so is it okay if I call you?”
“I have yours. I’ll be the one to call.”
“Thank you.” I barely acknowledge Jonathan with an unintelligible nod as I turn around and stride out of the scene.
It takes everything in me not to
run and give away my discomfort or the sense of how royally I fucked up.