Chapter 6 THE TRAP OF GOLD

CHAPTER 6: THE TRAP OF GOLD

SELENE’S POV

“Or did you simply want to invade my privacy… and claim the one man every woman in this city aches for?”

The hell?

I freeze, blinking at him with a raised eyebrow, my mind tripping over itself trying to process the words that just left his lips. What the fuck did he just imply? My thoughts scramble like loose papers in a storm, incoherent and scattered, and all I can do is stare back at him, my eyes wide with disbelief. I did not see that one coming. Not at all. A nervous laugh slips from my lips, awkward and unsteady, as I press myself harder against the wall, still trapped in the cage of his body.

Rationality—stay rational, Selene. Don’t let him get to you. But gods, he makes it impossible.

How the hell did I allow myself to end up pinned here, locked in with a strong, egoistic, arrogant, cocky prick? My fingers twitch uselessly against his bare chest, pushing, but he doesn’t budge. He doesn’t even flinch.

And the fact that he’s standing completely naked—unapologetically, brazenly pressed against me—makes my stomach twist into knots of shame. My face burns with heat. How can he be so fucking comfortable in his own skin, so unashamed, while I feel like I’m about to implode from the sheer intimacy of it?

My mind reels, spiraling fast. I need to leave. Right now. Not in a minute, not in ten seconds. Now. ASAP. I twist, wriggle, strain, but he only tightens his hold, immovable as stone.

Then he leans in closer, lowering his face until I can feel his warm breath washing across my skin.

“Not so soon,” he murmurs.

God. I’m going to faint. My nervous chuckle breaks out again, brittle and thin, as I press both palms against his chest, trying to push him back. My voice shakes when I manage, “I… I need to go.”

He ignores my plea. His hand shoots down, closing around my wrists with a grip like iron shackles, squeezing so tightly my eyelids flutter involuntarily. The strength in him is terrifying, impossible, making me feel small and fragile in comparison.

His face looms closer still, his height casting a shadow that makes him all the more intimidating. I shiver, blinking rapidly, lost for words as his golden eyes burn into mine. They’re bright, too bright, almost unnatural—like molten metal poured straight from the forge—staring so deep it feels like he’s reading every thought as it forms inside me.

Fuck.

My lips tremble.

A strangled little laugh bursts out of me, horribly out of place. The sound is so awkward, so weird, that I mentally slap myself. Jesus, Selene. What the hell are you doing? Why are you embarrassing yourself in front of this—this beautiful, infuriating man?

And then he smiles. A slow, devilish curl of lips that makes my stomach drop. That smile is eerie, wicked, sinful, dangerously charming. It’s everything all at once. He knows exactly the effect it’s having on me, and he revels in it.

Cocky, narcissistic, egoistic bastard.

But I can’t look away. Even when I try, even when I turn my head, his fingers catch my chin, forcing me back, tilting my face toward him.

His voice drops, rich and smooth, dripping with provocation. “You think you get to fuck me, grant me the best night I’ve had in millennias, and then just leave?”

My mind screeches to a halt.

What the—

Millennias?

Did he actually say that? My heart stutters, cold fear sinking in beneath the heat. What the fuck does that mean? How old is he? What even is he?

A laugh bubbles up again, nervous and fractured, because what else can I do? Who the hell have I entangled myself with?

My throat dries. I swallow hard, searching desperately for a way to slip free, some clever excuse, some loophole to escape this mess. Why did he have to wake up so soon? Why couldn’t he have stayed asleep just a little longer?

“Please,” I whisper, pleading now, “just let me go.”

But he only shakes his head, stubborn and immovable. “Not possible. Not even in a million years.” His tone hardens, amusement flickering into menace. “You’ve landed yourself in my trap, little one. You’re not going anywhere. Unless, of course, I decide to make your life hell.”

My pulse pounds in my ears. How the hell could he even do that? He doesn’t know me, doesn’t know where I’m from or who I am. My mind races through escape routes, but none of them feel real.

As though hearing my thoughts, his voice dips lower, darker, so smooth it nearly vibrates in my bones. “Don’t think about it.” The menace in his tone is undeniable, yet—gods help me—it’s sexy as fuck.

I tremble as he moves closer still, lowering his head until his breath ghosts along my neck. A shiver erupts through me, scattering across my skin in waves.

Gods. Help me.

His hand slips beneath the hem of my oversized shirt, his palm hot as it caresses my bare ass, squeezing firmly.

“Ah—” My breath hitches, eyes rolling back for a fleeting second, lashes fluttering as a shameful moan nearly escapes me. How is he doing this? How is he having this much effect on me?

His chuckle rumbles against my skin, wicked and mocking. “See?” he whispers against my neck. “No matter what, I’m irresistible to you. And you love it.”

God.

Summoning everything in me, I thrash hard, twisting, pulling, shoving with all my might. Somehow—finally—I break free. I stumble away, chest heaving, panting hard as if I’ve just run a marathon. My face is on fire, heat rushing through my skin. I rake my fingers through my tangled hair, lips trembling, desperate to steady myself.

Behind me, his soft chuckle floats in the air, maddeningly calm.

I need to avoid him. I need to never, ever let myself get this close again.

“Where the fuck are you, Lyra?” I hiss under my breath.

But he doesn’t give me space. His presence looms again, close, oppressive, as he steps up behind me.

I whirl around, biting down on my bottom lip until it nearly splits. My voice snaps sharp as I bark, “Put some clothes on!”

His laugh echoes, rich and careless. He shakes his head, utterly unbothered. And damn it, it only makes things worse. My traitorous heart flutters at the sound, like a fool savoring it. Adorable—no. Stop. Adorable? What the fuck are you even saying, Selene?

He winks. “Why should I?”

My mouth falls open, disbelief etched across my face. Doesn’t he have an ounce of shame?

“I know you like it,” he continues smoothly, smirking. “So no, I won’t.”

Heat floods my cheeks, so fierce I can feel it all the way to my ears. And from the way his gaze lingers, slow and deliberate, he sees it. He notices everything. He’s reveling in it.

“You’re even cuter when you blush,” he taunts.

Jesus.

Lyra. Please. Help me.

And as if the gods heard my prayer, a sudden, loud knock shatters the tension. His head whips toward the door, his expression twisting into a frown, annoyed that someone dares to interrupt his game.

Relief gushes through me so strong it’s dizzying. Lyra’s voice, frantic and urgent, filters in from the other side. “Selene! Are you in there?”

I nearly collapse with gratitude. He glances at me, still annoyed, and I can’t help grinning, a triumphant little grin, letting him know his moment of reign is over.

“Sorry. Uh… you gotta leave so—”

But the look on his face cuts me off. That annoyance has sharpened into something else, something darker. His gaze locks on the door, unblinking, simmering with a kind of intensity that makes my breath hitch.

Lyra’s knock grows more desperate. “Selene! Answer me! Are you in there?”

I snap out of my daze, rushing for the door, forgetting completely to cover for the naked menace behind me.

Oh shit. Oh fuck—

Too late. The door bursts open, and Lyra stumbles in.

My stomach drops.

I brace for the inevitable—the shocked pause, the wide eyes, the scream when she sees the naked man standing a breath away from me.

But nothing of the sort happens.

Instead, she looks directly at me, as though I’m the only one in the room. Her focus is frantic, concerned, her eyes raking me head to toe.

“Are you okay? Tell me right now, what the hell happened?” Her hands grab my arms, sliding over me in panic, checking, searching for injuries.

My mind stalls.

I turn, expecting to see him standing there, smug, infuriatingly naked.

But the space is empty.

Thin air.

What?

Where did he go? How—how did he just vanish? He was here. He was literally here seconds ago. There’s no escape route, no door, no window—nothing.

And yet, he’s gone.

My chest heaves as I look around, confusion crashing over me in waves.

What the actual hell just happened?