Total pages in book: 148
Estimated words: 147734 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 739(@200wpm)___ 591(@250wpm)___ 492(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147734 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 739(@200wpm)___ 591(@250wpm)___ 492(@300wpm)
My jaw tightens the second Cyrus strolls in like he owns the room, his gaze locking with mine, flat and unmoving.
He’s always had a way of setting me off. Not sure if it’s about his appearance, his expression, or the way he carries himself. Maybe all three.
Actually, it’s because he’s always lurking beside Yulian like an annoying shadow.
I watch him closely for the first time since the camp.
His hair is a pale platinum blond, still damp from a shower, strands falling too neatly across his forehead. His face is sharp, all cut-glass cheekbones and a mouth that looks like it’s forgotten how to hold an honest expression. His eyes are the strangest part—East Asian in shape but a shade of gray so pale, they look drained of life, almost metallic. And then there’s this curious scar, a thin line dragging just above and below the corner of his lips, old but surgical, like someone wanted to mark him permanently.
I wonder what happened there.
No amount of digging from my part has produced anything about Cyrus’s past. He’s still a dangerous variable with unknown origins.
His gaze lingers on the tangle of limbs—Yulian draped over me like I’m his personal bed. My hand tightens around Yulian’s back, possessiveness flooding my veins as I glare at Cyrus, the silent warning clear—back off.
I’m glad Yulian is covered, because I’d blind Cyrus for seeing him naked—which he probably has over the years, so maybe I should blind him anyway.
He arches a brow but stays silent, studying the scene with the cool precision of a sniper gauging distance. His stare holds no malice, only cold calculation.
Cyrus has always known Yulian, been by his side forever, and I hate him for it.
I just don’t like it. Don’t care if that makes me sound irrational.
He motions outside with his thumb, probably wanting a word, then disappears, leaving the door ajar.
The last thing I want is a talk with Cyrus, and I certainly don’t want to leave Yulian when I’m feeling slightly territorial and confrontational today.
But I have to go while it’s still early.
I disengage Yulian’s fingers from around me, and he releases a long whine, holding on to me tighter.
Fuck, he’s adorably clingy.
I pull his hand away and slip out of the bed as silently as possible, already feeling a sense of emptiness without his weight on me.
My clothes are all over the floor—something else I’d never do except when Yulian is around—and I put them on in record time before I head to the exit.
I stop with my hand on the doorknob and take one final look at Yulian’s sleeping body, a sense of unease settling in the bottom of my stomach as I walk out and silently close the door behind me.
Cyrus is standing next to the room, arms and ankles crossed, his expression calm and as unreadable as always. I suppose it mirrors mine, in a sense.
“You need to leave before the rest wake up,” he says with no emotion whatsoever.
I nod. Yesterday, I managed to gain access by sneaking in with delivery people, so being found out today would be a disaster.
“Follow me. I’ll get you through the back entrance.” He starts walking, not waiting to see whether or not I take him up on the offer.
I fall in step beside him as we walk in silence through the wallpapered hallways and the general mess from last night.
“Did you know I was here?” I ask as we cut down a long hall, my voice low but firm.
He throws me a fleeting glance. “Why would you assume that?”
“You didn’t look surprised when you walked in.”
“I walk in on Yulian fucking all the time. It’s no big deal.”
My jaw grinds, but I keep my cool. “You said that on purpose.”
“On purpose?”
“You want me to believe I’m one of Yulian’s many conquests and that I shouldn’t feel special.”
He stares at me, raising a brow. “Do you want to feel special?”
“What happens between us is none of your business.”
“Considering that I’m the one protecting him from his father, who’ll cut his head off if he knows he’s sleeping with men, I’d say it’s very much my business.”
I swallow.
Yes, of course Yaroslav would be against Yulian’s sexuality. He seems to be against Yulian in the first place, so something like this would probably be much worse.
“I just don’t understand something.” Cyrus stops and faces me, making me do the same.
“Which is?”
“Yulian is impulsive, wears his heart on his sleeve, and goes after what he wants headfirst. He seldom thinks of consequences and has serious risk-aversion issues, but you’re not like him, so help me understand why the fuck you’re indulging him?”
I purse my lips, because, again, I despise how well Cyrus knows Yulian. The fact that someone out there is more familiar with him than I am makes me see red.