The Darkest Star (Origin, #1)

by Jennifer L. Armentrout

His eyes. I’d never seen eyes like his. They were amethyst in color, a vibrant, polished purple, and the black lines around his pupils were irregular, fuzzy even. They were utterly beautiful eyes, but … Heidi’s suspicion was correct. “You’re a Luxen.”

“But truth time? I really don’t want to spend another minute in your presence.” I started to get up. “You’re a dick and I don’t know you. I don’t want to get to know you. Peace out, home skillet.”

“You’re coming with me,” Luc announced. “What?” I squeaked. “I’m not going anywhere with you. Like, I wouldn’t even walk from here to the dance floor with you.” “Well, that’s kind of offensive, but we’re about to be raided and not in the fun way.” There was a fun way of getting raided?

“I’m here for the…” Those stunning eyes glanced off me. “Just getting things ready for the … package, but I heard a ruckus. Thought I’d check it out.” “A ruckus?” Luc repeated. “Have you been watching TV from the fifties?” “Well, you know how deprived Archer is. He’s on this Happy Days kick recently. Freaking annoying as hell.

My gaze was drawn to the clean, hard lines of his jaw and then lower, over the broad width of his shoulders, and then to his chest. His shirt read MUGGLE IN THE STREETS, WIZARD IN THE SHEETS. My mouth gaped open. “Like my shirt?” he asked, dropping into the space beside me. “It’s … nice.”

His jeans were zipped but unbuttoned, and they hung indecently low—like, so low, they had to be held up by alien superpowers. He had those muscles on either side of his hips, the kind that formed indents. I didn’t even know what they were called, but boy, oh boy, did he ever have them. There was a faint dusting of hair that disappeared below the jeans. A flush of warmth hit my cheeks as I dragged my gaze up, over his abs—he had abs for days, each one cut and defined. His chest was sculpted, and as he lifted an arm, clapping his hand over the doorframe above him, I watched, sort of dazed, as the muscles along his ribs moved and flexed in interesting ways. Luc was … holy crap, he was ripped.

“Do you want me to take one of those creepy, self-indulgent selfies of my stomach and send it to you?” Luc asked. “Then you can check me out whenever you want, even when I’m not around.”

Did he play the guitar shirtless?

Good thing I have my library card, because I’m so checking you out.” “Oh my God.” I laughed. “That’s terrible.” “As bad as this? You know what’s on the menu?” A smile tugged at my lips. “What?” “Me ’n’ u,” he replied. I rolled my eyes. “Did you just come out of the oven?” he asked. “Oh God.” “Because you’re hot.” “Please stop.” “Well, here I am. What are your other two wishes?” he replied.

Vaguely, I thought the overhead light flipped on and then turned back off, but I wasn’t sure and I didn’t care. Not when his hands gripped my hips and he lifted me an inch or two and oh … Thinking was so overrated.

“What do you want?” he asked, his gaze holding mine. “You,” I whispered, cheeks burning. “You have me.” His thumb dragged along my lower lip. “You’ve always had me. Always.”