1.4 - The Dark Rose

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And then Atria’s arm jerked, in a sudden sharp but graceful twisting motion.

Her short-lived dancing partner doubled over instantly.

He crawled down from the bar, a swatted fly.

Ronan was positively glowing. More radiant than a pregnant mom. The look of triumph on his little brother’s face broke Axel’s heart.

“She loves me, Axe,” Ronan asserted. “How else, why else would she do that? Why not share her gifts—why save them all for me, the way she does?”

Axel sighed bitterly, gritted his teeth.

The song currently playing reached its pounding climax.

“Because you’re watching, Ronan,” he replied. “And she can’t afford to do that while you’re watching. You’re her sugar daddy.”

The music had been quite conveniently loud. So Ronan hadn’t heard that part. Or if he had, he hadn’t been listening.

“She loves me,” he blindly insisted again. “But not as much as I…”

His drunken voice trailed off, his dazed eyes lowered for a moment. He was turning something over in his fingers.

Axel caught a glimpse of gold and diamond, glinting beneath the pulsing strobe lights. It promptly vanished into Ronan’s pocket.

The muscles of Axel’s jaw tensed in dismay. “Ronan… what…”

“It’s nothing. You weren’t supposed to see.”

Axel set down his glass, reached urgently out toward his brother.

“Back off, Axe,” Ronan snapped, recoiling from the touch, glaring fiercely at his would-be protector. “Atria’s mine. Not yours.”

“She’s—”

“You all think she’s a fucking slut, and I don’t blame you for a second, but I…” Ronan’s voice cracked in his ever-thirsting throat, “…I’ve seen her heart. And I know love when I see it.”

Axel swallowed the million objections that he could’ve made to that statement. Settled on something less harsh. “It’s too soon, Ro…”

“What—just because you couldn’t win her heart, you think I can’t?”

Axel’s dark eyes narrowed dangerously.

Ronan drew in close again, his face afire with indignation. “Ever think maybe I get the girl this time, Axel?”

Atria was so much more than a girl, Axel knew. And she was never to be gotten. Not by anyone.

Ronan read nothing of the knowledge in his brother’s firm stare. He pressed on. “That maybe just this once, your little brother wins without you letting him?”

With those last words, he turned and left.

Axel knew better than to follow. He stayed and seethed. He would not stand for this. With that diamond, he knew there was nothing for Ronan to win. And everything to lose.

Atria watched as Ronan left the room. As soon as he was gone, a sultry smile crept onto her lips. She slinked down from the bar, grabbed the man with the buzz cut by the back of his head—he’d remained at her feet, even after the brutal twist.

Such was her allure that even the wounded could not keep away.

She pulled him into her, let his mouth worship her neck, then wander downward as he wished. Allowed him all he’d been denied.

And all she had denied herself. She’d noticed earlier that this man had very luscious-looking lips. Been hoping that Ronan would leave soon enough for her to get a taste.

Now that she’d joined the throng below, a thousand pairs of hands explored her bare bronze skin. Her sorry excuse for a dress covered quite little of it.

One hand suddenly gripped her arm more harshly than the others. Started to forcibly pull her away.

Atria knew this grip too well; she’d felt it many times upon her. Though more often elsewhere than her arm.

“You could’ve just asked,” she breathed as Axel Golde pushed her into a private corner, up against the wall.

She smiled at him like she owned him. Reached to twine her fingers in his tousled copper hair.

Pressed her glossy lips close to his ear. “Though it is hotter when you take me.”

He resisted, shoved her back to an arm’s length away. “Not now.”

Atria arched her raven brows. “That’s a first.”

“Well, here’s what’s not,” he spat. “Tonight you’re gonna bring another young boy to his knees.”

“Mmm, my favorite position,” she purred, placing her hands on his broad shoulders, pushing down as if to make him kneel in front of her.

Axel glowered, no part of him amused. “Ronan’s got a ring.”

The pressure on his shoulders stopped. The passion vanished from her voice, the roses wilted in her cheeks as all the blood drained from her flawless face. “Oh, fuck,” she murmured. “Poor thing.”

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