But I didn't. There is nothing he'd ask of me that would be impossible to do. He was my brother, after all. He wouldn't ask me to do something above my capacity.
"Y-Yes." I whispered, my voice barely audible.
A shadow of a smile crossed his lips, but it wasn't comforting. It was possessive. "Good," he said simply, his thumb still brushing my skin. "You owe me, then. In the near future, I'll return for what's mine. But, for now, you'll stay away from every man who isn't me."
I swallowed hard, nodding quickly without thinking about his words. "I will. I swear, Alaric. Just... please don't hurt him."
His gaze lingered on me for what felt like an eternity, his fingers still grazing my cheek. His touch was soft, almost reverent, but it was wrong—so very, very wrong. I could feel his eyes devouring me, drinking in every tear, every shiver, every quiver of my lips.
And yet he said nothing.
Finally, he straightened, pulling his hand away and leaving me cold and trembling on the floor. "Get up and go to your room."
ALARIC
If only she knew. Poor Jasmine. She just sold her soul to the devil by telling me she'd do whatever I wanted her to do.
Now, I was looking for the perfect 'favor' to ask of her.
Under the guise of handling paperwork, I stayed rooted to my spot, my eyes fixed on her. She didn't know I was watching, and I liked it that way. The glass panel between us offered a perfect view of her... yet it wasn't enough to bridge the space I ached to close.
Jasmine sat at her desk, her attention absorbed by the monitor. She brushed a strand of hair away from her face, the gesture so small and unassuming, yet it sent an ache through me. That hair, dark and soft, had once rested against my shoulder when she fell asleep in the car as kids. How could something so simple haunt me like this now?
Her lips moved as she murmured something under her breath, likely annoyed at whatever task she was handling. The sight made my chest tighten.
Gods, she was exquisite. A picture of innocence wrapped in temptation. She was mine. She just didn't know it yet. The thought sent a dark thrill through me.
I pictured her in my bed, beneath me, her legs spread wide as I slid into her, feeling her warmth, her tightness.
She's perfect in every way, and I want to make her feel things she's never felt before. I want to take her to the edge and show her how good we can be together... But it's wrong.
It's all wrong.
I gripped the edge of the desk in front of me, my nails biting into the wood. She was too tempting, too pure, too mine to be sitting there, as if she didn't consume my every thought.
Her phone buzzed on the table, and she answered it in a tone so soft that it made me rage. Whoever was on the other end didn't deserve her voice or her attention.
A sharp pang of jealousy flared in me, tightening my throat. She laughed quietly at something they said, and it only fueled my anger.
I hated hearing that laugh directed at anyone else.
I picked up my phone and opened up the app which I had been using to track all her calls and text messages for a while now.
My heart beat rapidly as I prayed to the moon goddess that she wasn't talking to another man.
I heaved a sigh when I saw who she was talking to.
Dad.
I forced myself to exhale slowly, fighting the surge of possessiveness that threatened to take over. My gaze stayed locked on her, my mind wandering back to the other night—to the sight of her on her knees, begging me.
And wasn't that the sweetest irony? My little Jasmine, offering herself up to the devil to save a man who didn't deserve her.
She had no idea how much power she held in that moment, how she'd handed me the key to her every move.
The memory stirred something darker within me. Jasmine thought she was saving Cory, but all she'd done was seal his fate. The boy was already a ghost walking. Her pleas had spared him for a moment, but no one could protect him from me.
She shifted in her chair, her posture stiffening as if sensing eyes on her. I stepped back instinctively, my jaw clenching. I couldn't let her see me like this—watching her with a hunger I couldn't suppress, a hunger that would terrify her if she ever understood it.
Jasmine wasn't ready to know what she meant to me. She wasn't ready to see how far I would go to keep her. But she would. eventually. And when that day came, she would have no choice but to stay exactly where she belonged—by my side.
The very thought sent a sharp pang of need through my veins, pooling low and hot in my core.
My trousers felt too tight, my arousal straining painfully against the fabric, demanding release, as my mind wandered to all the things I could do to her, should do to her. And for a brief, wicked moment, I imagined storming into her office and locking the door behind me.
I leaned forward, gripping the edge of the desk to steady myself. I could practically feel the silkiness of her hair in my fists, shear the breathy gasp she'd make when I finally kissed her.
Fuck. Jasmine.
A sound broke through my haze—the faint creak of the door opening beside me.