Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 109033 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 109033 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 545(@200wpm)___ 436(@250wpm)___ 363(@300wpm)
“You’re insulting your own intelligence if you insist on believing that. Look at the facts in front of you. She’s a siren. Her song preys on people and induces obsessions. And here you are, utterly obsessed with her. It’s pretty fucking obvious that you’re not in your right mind.”
The psi-demon bristled, his chin flicking up. “I love her, Luka.”
Abraxas rolled its eyes, finding him pitiful.
“No, you think you do,” Luka contradicted. “If you really cared for her, you would respect her wishes and leave her alone. Her song has you all muddled up.”
“It may seem that way—”
“Because it is that way. Denying it doesn’t change the truth.”
The corners of Iain’s eyes tightened. “You’re going to take my word over Jolene’s? It can only be her who asked you to keep me away from Naomi.”
“It wasn’t only Jolene.” Luka sipped at his drink again. “Naomi herself requested that I cut you from her life.”
Iain sucked in a breath, pain flickering in the depth of his gaze. “She . . . she didn’t mean that.”
“Oh, I assure you she did. And you will stay away from her, Iain.”
Anguish seeped into the psi-demon’s blue eyes. “Don’t ask that of me.”
“I’m not asking you. I’m explicitly stating that you’re to leave her alone. You need that distance from her, Iain, or her song will keep you under its spell. In a couple of weeks, it will have worn off and you’ll see I’m right that this is obsession you feel.”
Iain drained his glass and then placed it on the side table. His gaze snapped back to Luka, a hint of challenge there. “Have you ever been in love?”
“No.”
“Then how can you be sure that’s not what I’m feeling?”
Dagon snorted, wondering how someone could be so delusional—siren song or not.
“Have you taken a look in the mirror lately?” Luka asked. “You’re pale. Sweaty. Flushed. Your eyes are cloudy.”
Iain plucked uncomfortably at his collar, his gaze sliding to the side. “Okay, so maybe her song is affecting me. But my feelings for her are still real.” A stubborn tension tightened his jaw. “If she could just see that, if she could just realize that I’m not delusional, she’d give me—us—another chance.”
“You think that Naomi—someone who’s dealt with many obsessed men—can’t tell the difference between siren-induced emotions and genuine feelings?”
Belligerence danced in Iain’s eyes as he leaned forward. “It’s the truth, Luka. The absolute truth.”
“It’s fantasy,” Luka countered. “Even if I was wrong on that, it wouldn’t matter. Because no one has the right to force their wants on another person. You’re going to leave her alone, Iain—not only because it’s what’s fair to her, but because I fucking told you to.” Infuriated by the psi-demon’s persistence, Belial shoved its way to the surface and glared at him. “If you dare disobey us on this, I will whip you until you are raw and bleeding—and then I will whip you some more.”
Fear falling over his face, Iain eased back slightly in his seat.
Luka regained supremacy over Belial, rolling his shoulders. “Are we clear?”
The psi-demon swallowed hard, his expression souring. “Yes.”
“Then say it.”
“We’re clear.” The words were torn out of him.
Luka finished his drink. “Raiden, take Iain back home.”
The sentinel pushed away from the wall. “Sure thing.”
Iain rose from the sofa and followed Raiden to the door. Pausing, the psi-demon half-turned to look at Luka. “Maybe one day you’ll fall hard for a woman. If you do, you’ll understand how I feel right now, and you’ll know what this will cost me.”
“Or you’ll discover with time and distance that you’re wrong in what you presently believe, and you’ll be thankful that I directed you to stay clear of Naomi.” Luka flicked a hand. “Go.”
Obediently, the psi-demon left with Raiden.
Mikhail took a few steps toward Luka. “Spelled by a siren song or not, the guy is definitely fixated on her.”
“So it would seem.” It wasn’t something that Luka could relate to. He’d never even developed so much as a remote fondness for any of the women in his past. He’d never experienced obsession, adoration, or possessiveness toward them.
As a child, he had been wildly territorial of what was his. He hadn’t merely refused to share his toys, he’d hidden his favorites from others. His father had handled it by taking any such favorites from him.
Andrey Belinsky hadn’t done it to be cruel. He’d simply wanted to crush Luka’s tendency to form attachments—for the head of a crime family like theirs, attachments could be weaknesses.
There were many lessons that Andrey had taught his son in his efforts to prepare him for a position that, placing him as it would at the top of the hierarchy, would set him slightly apart from the rest of his lair. Those lessons had paid off, but it meant that Luka didn’t know how not to be alone. He instinctively shied away from emotional intimacy, as did his inner entities.