Page 16 of Gravehouse

He slams the door shut, trapping me with more questions. I should chase him. Demand answers. Veilarath has another side?

I face the window instead, watching water smash against the cliff until my heart rate levels.

The door opens again, and my spine goes rigid, but tension uncoils when Atlas’s reflection peers back at me.

“If you’re here to tell me your brother means well,” I say, crossing my arms. “Save it.”

His footsteps cross the concrete, cutting off a few feet behind me. “Now have I ever lied to you?”

I huff out a breath. “I’m beginning to think I prefer being lied to.” My tongue sticks to the roof of my mouth. “Truth is beginning to feel a lot like hell.”

He has the same bone structure as Asher, same arrogant symmetry, but Atlas wears his face like he doesn’t set it on fire for fun.

He scans the books on the shelves. “Do you read?”

I shrug, my shoulder tapping the window. “Not as much as I’d like to.”

“Ah, busy life and all?” He rocks back on his heels, his mouth curving into a grin like I don’t get the joke.

That’s nothing new. I hardly ever get his jokes.

“Well you’ve got time now.”

I finally turn. My annoyance has nowhere else to go so I direct it at the next best thing.

“So what is this?” I ask, leaning against the glass. “Your part-time job. Keep me entertained?”

His grin widens. “I keep everyone alive.” Atlas shifts his weight, humor leaking out of his voice. “That’s the role.”

“You’re doing such a great job.” I curl my lip. “No blood has been spilled yet.”

He glances at the slip of skin between the waistband and my shirt, then checks my hair that looks like someone yanked it into place.

“Ivanya.” He says my name like he’s afraid it’ll bite him. Good instinct. I might. “Don’t do anything stupid.”

I step close enough for my toes to skim his shoes, tilting my chin. “Define stupid. Flirting with my husband’s twin while he’s busy fucking his ex?”

I hold his gaze. I could do this. This could take the edge off the shit Asher just dumped on me. A better woman would take the verbal punch he landed. Considering I shot him, that’s the least I deserve. Good thing I’m the worst fucking thing in this world.

Atlas narrows his eyes.

“Wait.” He smirks, but his body goes rigid. “Are you flirting with me?”

He has a nice throat. Is it weird to have a nice throat? “And if I was?”

His eyes widen, flying over my shoulder.

“Nope.” I shake my head, snapping the thread before the tension mutates. “I can’t do it.”

“Agreed,” Atlas chuckles, relaxing.

We laugh at the same time, though I’m sure it’s not for the same reason.

“This is weird, but I thought I’d try it out.” He doesn’t need to know that I was testing his role in this whole thing. Good to know I don’t have to fuck Atlas.

He tugs on his hair, still a little stressed. “You do this to get under his skin.”

He keeps looking behind me like he’s expecting Asher to storm back through.