Silence, A New World Series Novella

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Silence, A New World Series Novella Page 3

by Janelle Stalder


  Without speaking, he glanced down beside him, and then back at her with raised brows, his eyes questioning. She looked to where he’d done, noticing his gaze had found the panties still lying there, and her face flamed. When she looked back at him, all she could manage was a small shrug. She wasn’t going to explain herself to him. She didn’t need to. If she didn’t want to wear his stupid thong, that was her decision.

  Except, then his eyes lowered down her body, stopping at the apex of her thighs, and she instantly regretted her rash decision. While having him picture her wearing his thong was embarrassing, him knowing that she was naked instead, and picturing that instead was even worse.

  His nose flared as he inhaled deeply. His gaze moved back up to meet her own, and she almost had to step back at the blatant hunger there. He’s a despicable man, her inner voice reminded her. She shouldn’t be feeling her breath increase, or her stomach tighten when faced with his obvious desire. It was hard to ignore, especially since she’d never felt such a reaction to a man before in her life. Wasn’t it just predictable that when she finally did, it was because of someone she could never be with? Life just sucked for her that way.

  Still, he watched her, the silence between them growing thicker as the seconds ticked by. Even if she’d wanted to say something, she didn’t think she’d have the voice to do so. Her mouth and throat were suddenly as dry as the desert. The best she could manage was to look away from him, hoping that the disconnect would allow each of them to regain some of their senses.

  Bastian struggled to fight every instinct in his body that was screaming for him to swallow up the space between them, and pull her close to him. He couldn’t stop his eyes from raking her lithe body, especially now that he knew there was nothing under the black tights that clung to her every curve. She was just so beautiful, it hurt to look at her. Everything about Pixie seemed fragile, and Bastian was anything but.

  He would crush her, he knew. Not physically – no, he would never to anything to actually hurt her that way. But emotionally, yes. He just wasn’t the sort of man who should – or could – get involved with someone as lovely as Pixie. Even though she was a fighter herself, there was just something about her that screamed, not for you, Bastian.

  He wasn’t good enough for a girl with that much depth in the ocean blue of her eyes. He cleared his throat, breaking the spell that had fallen over them the second she’d stepped out of the bathroom.

  “I’ve brought you some food, and then you’ll be taken to the practice area,” he told her.

  Her eyes looked up from where they’d focused on the floor, confusion written in them. “Why do I need to go to the practice area?” she asked.

  God, her voice sent chills down his spine. It was the kind of smooth, gentle tone that would ease a man’s soul at the end of a hard day. What would she sound like in the throes of passion? He wondered. Hardening his jaw, he instantly tossed those thoughts from his mind.

  “I thought you might like an opportunity to get out of this room,” he explained. “But if you’d rather stay here…” His hands splayed out, gesturing to the walls surrounding them in a silent question.

  She straightened, her eyes instantly changing from confusion to determination. “Of course I want out,” she replied. “Let me just put my shoes back on.”

  “Eat first,” he ordered, before he could stop himself. “I don’t want you passing out.” The protective feeling he was dealing with towards her was starting to get ridiculous. He almost wanted to say never mind, and that he could care less if she did pass out, but he didn’t. Because he knew that he really did want to make sure she was getting some sort of nutrients. She was interfering with his usual detached exterior and he didn’t like it.

  Pixie looked at him with an unreadable expression, before moving. She brushed past him, her scent enveloping him as she did. Bastian took a steadying breath, willing his body to regain some ounce of control. The tendrils of her freshly washed scent were coiling within him, hardening every part of his body. He wanted her – badly. There was no reasonable explanation as to why, it was just there. Need and desire unlike anything he’d felt before. He knew nothing about her, but his body didn’t seem to care one way or another.

  Forcing himself to relax, he took a deep breath before turning to watch her. Pixie stood by the plate of food he’d brought her, not touching anything. Her brows were furrowed in confusion. Tiny white teeth bit at her bottom lip, fueling the raging fire within him once again.

  “Something the matter?” he asked, flinching at the gravelly sound of his voice. She shook her head absently, her eyes still focused downward.

  He stepped closer, keeping some distance so he wouldn’t do anything stupid. “Do you not like the food?”

  Her head shook again, this time lifting to look at him with confusion. “It’s just…” her head looked back down before facing him again. “There are oranges here…and everything looks so…fresh.”

  “Is there a question in there somewhere?” he asked, biting back a smile. The furrow between her brows, coupled with the slight pout of her full bottom lip, made him want to drag her close and kiss all that confusion away. He knew what had her out of sorts. It was impossible to find oranges in these times. Food was scarce, and all you could manage to get was whatever local food was available. Oranges were a rarity for sure.

  Her eyes seemed to search his, as though she were looking for something plainly written there. He kept his usual shuttered expression. “How did you get all this?” she finally asked.

  His smile broke through for a second before he tisked at her in disapproval. “Now, now, Pixie,” he said, braving a step closer. “A man can’t reveal all his secrets, now can he? Especially not to someone he can’t trust.”

  The words hung in the air between them. It wasn’t as if he expected her to deny it to him. They would have both known she was lying if she did. It was clear something was going on with her and the others, he just didn’t know what yet. Trust was definitely not possible. Desire, yes. Trust? Bastian didn’t think there was anyone he could really trust anymore.

  She kept quiet for another moment, just staring back at him, before finally turning away and grabbing some slices of oranges from the plate. Popping one in the mouth, he watched her chew as though it were the most erotic thing he’d ever seen. What was it about this girl that everything she did seemed to entrance him?

  “Let’s go,” she said. Without waiting, she turned and headed for the door, leaving the rest of the food where it was.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Bastian had left her as soon as they’d reached the practice room earlier. Thankful for the much needed space, Pixie stood just within the doors, surveying the room. Her eyes landed on a familiar pair that widened fractionally before shuttering themselves again. Trent stood in front of a bag on the other side of the room. She quickly looked away before either of them did something stupid. They needed to be careful.

  Ignoring him, Pixie moved to a mat and started stretching. As much as she wanted to start looking around and searching for a way out, she didn’t think it was going to happen any time soon. She also had the sudden urge to actually work out the pent up energy she’d incurred from being in such close proximity to Bastian Black. She sensed someone approaching just before he spoke.

  “Looking good,” Trent said loudly.

  What the…? Pixie looked up, wondering what the hell he was doing. Was he hitting on her? She cocked an eyebrow. Is this how he picked up women? Because if it was, she finally understood why someone as good looking as Trent McKay was still single. She had to fight back a smile at the cocky way he looked at her. He stepped closer, his voice quieting.

  “Where the hell have you been?” he asked, clearly pissed. Or was he worried? It was hard for her to tell. Her initial reaction was to tell him to fuck off, but she stopped herself, deciding that it was definitely concern that blanketed his gaze.

  “We’ve been worried,” he said, confirming her assumption. Guilt
filled her knowing she’d been cozy in a nice bedroom, no one knowing where she was, while the rest of them were probably freaking out at her absence. Not that she’d had any control over it. Still, she hated to know she’d caused any distress to her friends.

  Keeping her eyes open for anyone who might be watching, Pixie quickly told him where she’d been, unable to answer his questions when he asked. How should she know why Bastian was keeping her close by? Because he suspected something? Probably. For any other reason? Who knew. Pixie was the last person who could explain why men did the things they did.

  “He’s on to us,” she told him. “He knows something is up, and has decided keeping me close so he can watch me will make a difference. I need to warn Garrett and Missy so they don’t do anything stupid.”

  Trent tensed up. “Are you locked in?” he asked.

  Pixie nodded. She needed to tell him about the food too. There was more to this place than they thought, she just wasn’t sure what. How someone like Bastian could obtain certain foods that were all but impossible to get these days, especially out here in the middle of the Outlands, was a mystery to her. She just wished she could figure it out. Hard to do when she was essentially a prisoner.

  Just as she went to tell him though, she spotted a very pissed off Bastian making his way over to them from the door. Shit, she cursed inwardly.

  Unexpectedly, Trent stepped closer, wrapping his arm around her waist. She instinctively stiffened in his hold as he spoke loudly next to her ear. “What’s the matter, baby, you don’t like what you see?”

  Pixie cringed. Why did men insist on calling women “baby”? She was a grown-ass woman, not an infant. Pet names made her want to reach out and crush testicles. Lucky for him, she knew Trent was just putting on a show. Bastian stood just behind him now, and all thoughts fled from her head. She met his gaze over Trent and what she saw there made her shiver.

  In fear? Desire? Anticipation? She didn’t know. All she knew was suddenly her body felt alive now that he was near her again. What was wrong with her?

  “Get your fucking hands off her,” Bastian ordered through clenched teeth.

  Both she and Trent flinched, more from surprise than anything. Something akin to jealousy radiated from Bastian as he looked between the two of them. Sweat instantly beaded on her brow as she watched the two of them go back and forth. The more Trent talked, the angrier Bastian grew.

  What was his deal? He was acting as though she were his property. Pixie didn’t belong to anyone, and she wasn’t just going to stand there and let him act like some sort of Neanderthal. And some small part of her didn’t like the fact that he seemed so pissed off. God help her, she was going insane.

  “Bastian, calm down,” she said, interrupting their testosterone fest. His eyes flew to hers. Silently, she pleaded with him to back down. The last thing she needed was for Trent to get in trouble over her. She’d never forgive herself if he was hurt.

  As they stared at one another, Trent temporarily forgotten beside them, she could see him slowly force himself to relax. Relief and another emotion she couldn’t quite name filled her as she kept her eyes trained on his. For whatever reason, she had an effect on this dark, dangerous man. It made no sense whatsoever, and yet she knew it to be true.

  After what felt like an eternity, Bastian looked away from her to face Trent again. "You want fun? You're in the ring tonight. How's that for fun?" He jerked his head toward the practice ring. "Get in there and let’s see how you do against the new guy."

  Pixie looked over to see Tyler in the ring. How had neither of them noticed him? Trent walked off then, leaving the two of them standing there.

  He stepped closer, her heart racing as his scent surrounded her. “The next time I see him, or anyone, touching you, I’ll break their arm. Understood?” he said, sincerity evident in his tone.

  She lifted her face to meet his, narrowing her eyes. “You don’t own me,” she said. “Or have you forgotten that I was brought here by someone else?”

  The smile that stretched his face was anything but friendly and didn’t reach the deep pools of his eyes. “Oh no, I haven’t forgotten, little Pixie.” He closed what little distance there was between them and she had to force her body from swaying toward his heat. “I don’t own you – yet. Trust me, sweetheart, there are many ways to own a person.”

  Sweetheart? Gah. She pressed her lips together to keep herself from saying or doing something she might regret. Keeping a calm, cool façade was her specialty. Why was this man constantly testing that? Without another word, she stomped off toward Tyler. Garrett had said they’d brought her to help with training Trent, so that was exactly what she’d do. And if Bastian didn’t like it? Too fucking bad.

  She hopped up on the outside of the ring, ignoring the burn of Bastian’s gaze the entire time.

  “Everything okay, lass?” Tyler said, bending close to speak with her.

  She nodded. “Everything’s just peachy.”

  “You had us worried.”

  “So I’ve heard,” she said with a sigh. “I’ll explain another time, if I have the chance. I’ve spoken with Trent so he can fill you in if I can’t. For now, go kick Trent’s ass for me. He called me baby,” she said, scrunching up her nose in disgust.

  Tyler chuckled. “Are you sure you don’t want me to kick someone else’s ass too?” he asked, motioning his head toward Bastian.

  “If only,” she said softly, finally looking back at the man in question.

  He turned away from her at that moment, barking orders at Trent before stomping out of the room. Everything was so messed up. She was so used to being in complete control of her life, that this entire situation was throwing her for a loop. Not only were they stuck in this place, but her body was betraying her with the enemy every chance it got.

  Bastian’s words kept repeating in her head like a sexy broken record. I don’t own you – yet. Why did that statement – no, promise – not anger her the way it should? Instead it had tendrils of excitement lighting up all sorts of parts of her she wasn’t prepared to acknowledge – ever.

  Bastian hadn’t returned by the time the other guards called a halt to the fight between Tyler and Trent, signaling for them all to get back to their cells. Or room, in her case. One guard gripped her arm tightly, muttering, “you’re coming with me” before dragging her back through the labyrinth of underground hallways. She was left in her room again, alone.

  Waiting a couple of minutes after he left, she approached the door, testing the knob to see if it was unlocked. It wasn’t. With a renewed sense of irritation, she spun around and began to pace the small confines of her room. She needed out. Being trapped like some sort of animal was torture. If only there were more places for her to hide. Even if she did somehow manage to get out, she’d be a sitting duck in the bare halls. Anyone walking by would come upon her, and there were no hidden areas she could dart into in order to avoid discovery.

  A sense of hopelessness was starting to creep its way into her thoughts. She angrily pushed it back. She’d never been one to wallow in self-pity, and she wasn’t about to start now. This was all just one more obstacle to overcome, and she’d overcome a lot in her life.

  There had been her dismal upbringing and absent parents. The war that tore her life apart. The whole process of picking up the pieces of it afterward, a young girl in her teens trying to stay alive in a war torn country. Scrounging for scraps of food. Stealing, sleeping in places even animals would think twice on. She’d been through it all. The best moment of her life had been when she’d finally run into Phoenix and joined her small gang of rebels, dedicated to making life better again.

  Since then she’d had purpose, and more importantly, a family. And she wouldn’t let them down. Not now, not ever. If Bastian really thought he could keep her here, he was in for a big surprise. She’d fight tooth and nail to get them all out safely. The only way he’d be able to stop her would be to kill her.

  The door slammed behind her, causing
her to jump mid-stride in surprise. She turned to face a yet again pissed off Bastian. Suddenly the idea of him killing her didn’t seem too off the mark. She gulped, watching as he prowled closer, his eyes never leaving hers. All the bravado she’d just managed to muster seemed to flee under that gaze.

  She was in so much trouble.

  Bastian had left the gym confused. His body was strung tight, his hands unconsciously clenching and unclenching at his sides. There were very few times he’d felt this jacked up, and it had never been because of some girl he didn’t even know. Was he…jealous? Could it be?

  Nah, he thought, pushing the ridiculous notion away. But that small voice that he often ignored piped up insisting he was lying to himself. He was definitely jealous. Barreling through the halls, he headed to his office, slamming the door loudly behind him. His hands immediately ran through his hair, yanking at the strands.

  What the fuck was wrong with him? His heart raced as if he’d just ran a marathon, and all he could think about was the tiny girl with big eyes that was currently hovering in another man’s corner as though she belonged there.

  “Fuck!” he yelled, kicking at the trashcan beside his desk. Pixie was bringing out all kinds of feelings in him, and he didn’t like any one of them. Lust he could handle, but this? This uncontrollable urge to make her his, to stake his claim in front of all other men…to rip apart any man that would dare touch his woman? This was insane.

  When he’d caught the two of them together, he had almost pulled the pistol he kept in his waistband and shot the man’s arm off right there. That would have taught him a lesson. He’d seen red, brighter and hotter than any other time in his life. Nothing, nothing, had ever ignited such a reaction in him instantaneously the way that moment had.

 

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