She managed to whisper, forcing herself to meet his gaze even though it felt like staring into an abyss. "I didn't mean to—I'm so—"
"Did you come to pester me again?" he cut her off, his voice flat and cold. "What happened to me telling you I never wanted you in my sight?"
He leaned in closer, and Aya pressed herself harder against the shelf, as if she could somehow phase through the wood and disappear.
"You should leave me alone," he continued. "You disgust me."
The words hit like slaps, but Aya couldn't even defend herself because she could see it in his eyes. He meant every word.
His eyes narrowed. "You smell."
Then his gaze flickered downward, just for a moment, he looked so shocked.
Aya realised with dread exactly what he had smelled. Of course, he could smell it. She was not dealing with a human being here. This was a werewolf and she was standing in a world full of supernatural creatures with senses that could probably detect a sneeze from three rooms away.
And here she was getting turned on by someone who hated her most in the world and was close enough to pick up on every biological response her traitorous body was producing.
Aya wanted to die. Again.
She wanted that Truck to reverse and come back for a second round since the floor wasn't going to open up and swallow her anytime soon.
His eyes seemed to twitch, just slightly, and then a slow, wicked smirk curved across his lips.
"Are you…" He paused, and the smirk widened into something cruel. "Are you actually aroused right now?"
He had on the kind of smile that said he had found something pathetic and intended to enjoy stepping on it.
His smile fell and the mocking edge in his voice cut sharper with his growing anger. "You barge into my space, stare at me like some shameless creature, and now you are standing here... wet?"
Aya pressed her lips together so hard they went white.
He took a full step back, putting distance between them, and Aya felt like she could finally breathe again.
"Let me make something clear," he said quietly, his voice dripping with disdain, "Even if this body worked the way it was supposed to. Even if you were standing before me wearing nothing at all." His eyes dropped down the length of her and came back up to her face. "Not even your naked body would make my manhood twitch, much less rise." His eyes grew colder. "You disgust me."
She stood there with her back still against the shelf and her face on fire. Her hands gripped the sides of her dress. She wanted to bite back, but the embarrassment had stolen every good comeback she had, and underneath that uncomfortable feeling was something worse.
Guilt.
The original Aya had caused all this nonsense.
And she had looked at the part of him that had been cursed and sealed for over a decade. Even worse now was the fact that she herself had gotten turned on by his closeness.
'What a shitty day.'
She peeled herself off the shelf, straightened up, and adjusted her dress with fingers that weren't entirely steady.
"Aren't you being a bit too harsh?" The words tumbled out before she could stop them, spoken in a quiet, almost absent-minded tone.
Then she froze, realizing exactly how insensitive that sounded.
His jaw was tight. Whatever he had expected her to say, that wasn't it.
"I'm sorry," she said quickly. "That was stupid of me—"
"Get out," he said flatly. "You never come to the library. This is my space. You gave it to me and granted me full access. I have respected your boundaries in this estate. So, for you to come and just intrude like this —"
"I am sorry!" Aya blurted out, frowning, and the surprise on his face was almost comical.
She took a deep breath and walked toward him, her face serious.
He was stunned.
She was walking toward him. She was not raising her voice or throwing a tantrum or grabbing the books to fling them at him. This woman was walking directly towards him with an expression on her face that he had never seen on Aya Lunaire.
It was serious. Calm. Resolved.
The wild woman had exactly two modes: screaming tantrums and sulking in silence. Nothing in between. She had never once looked at anyone the way she was looking at him right now.
For a moment, he almost believed she had a serious thought behind those eyes.
'Don't be ridiculous,' he thought to himself just as she stopped in front of him.
Close enough that she had to look up to meet his eyes. He did not step back.
She sighed. Dropped her gaze for a second. Then brought it back up to his.
"I am sorry for intruding your personal space. I had forgotten, and I didn't mean to make you uncomfortable." Her voice was steady. "But this is my library. It is in my estate and I have the right to come and go as I wish."
His jaw tightened. This woman. Of course, it was like her to forget an agreement.
"That being said," she added, "I apologize for my behaviour. I don't blame you for despising me this much either." She paused and her eyes drifted to the side as she chose her words carefully. "I would like to use the library. Since me being here makes you uncomfortable, I want to know when you usually come here so I can use this place when you are not around. That way we both get what we need."
Dorian stared at her.
Something was wrong.
He was a man who planned things with precision. He kept schedules, monitored behavioural patterns, and could read people. It was what he did.
But the person standing in front of him right now was producing words and expressions that did not match any of her usual behaviour over the past twelve years.
It was as if someone had taken Aya Lunaire apart and put her back together incorrectly. Or correctly. He wasn't sure which option disturbed him more.
"Did you hit your head somewhere?" he finally asked.