“It’s okay.” The light washed over his hand, licking down his arm. “Origins aren’t transparent. . . .” He grinned. “Like jellyfish.”

I could see that. His arm was fully formed underneath the intense light.

“Origins’ eyes are like mine. Same color. Same kind of pupils.”

I forced my gaze to his. Who had eyes like his? They guy I’d seen with Chas. “Archer. He’s an Origin?”

As Luc nodded, the glow warmed his features like he was leaning over a candle. That explained the weirdness of his pupils, something I’d never seen on a Luxen. “There used to be more Origins. There aren’t . . . many left.”

I bit down on my lip. “What happened to them?”

Luc didn’t answer for a long moment. “That’s another story for another day.”

My gaze flicked up his face and then back to the whitish glow humming over his hand. Some bizarre, innate urge to touch him—the light—woke up inside me.

“You can,” he said, voice low and deep. “You can touch it. You won’t be hurt.”

My heart skipped a beat as I lifted my hand. “Can . . . can Origins read minds?”

A secretive smile played over his lips. “Some of us can.”

Oh hell no. I froze. “Can you?”

“I can.”

I started to draw back. I’d been right all along. Good Lord, the kind of stuff I thought around him? The bad? The really bad? The really embarrassing?

“I try not to do it. Like, I don’t go peeping in people’s thoughts. Sometimes I can’t help it, especially when a person is broadcasting loudly.” His gaze met mine. “You are . . . quiet most of the time. I’ve only picked up a few things unintentionally. Just parts of thoughts.”

“Why would I believe you’re not reading my mind on purpose?” If I had that ability, I’d totally be doing it every five seconds.

The light around his hand pulsed. “Because if I did read your mind, I probably wouldn’t like what I found.”

Startled by his blunt honesty, I was at a loss for words. Part of me wanted to apologize.

“Touch the light,” he coaxed. “I know you want to. And it’s not from reading your mind. It’s written all over your face.”

Luc was right.

I wanted to.

Probably a sign of insanity.

Swallowing hard, I reached out. Time seemed to slow as my fingers neared the glow. The air was warm around his hand. Not hot. Tensing, I tipped forward. My fingers parted the light, and a jolt of electricity danced over my skin. The light spread from Luc to me. It felt like a soft hum.

My breath caught.

Touching the light didn’t hurt. Not at all. It felt like I was running my fingers through sunbaked air. Little tendrils of light flicked out, curling around my hand.

This wasn’t just light, though. It was power—pure power that could be harnessed into a weapon—a weapon that had killed my father.

I pulled my hand free, pressing my palm into my leg.

The light dimmed until Luc’s hand and arm looked normal. His pupils looked weird once more, as if they were stretching.

I cleared my throat. “What else can you do?”

Luc didn’t answer for a long moment. He just looked at me in a way that made me feel like I was some kind of jigsaw puzzle he couldn’t piece together. Our gazes collided and held. My breath caught. Something . . . something hot and unwanted flared to life between us.

His throat worked on a swallow as he looked away. “We’re susceptible to the same weapons as the Luxen—Tasers and electric pulse guns are not our friends. Anyway, everything that a Luxen can do, we can do better.”

“Wow.” I laughed, pushing the odd feeling aside. “That’s extremely modest of you.”

A small grin appeared. “I knew someone once who said modesty was for saints and losers.”

My brows lifted. “That sounds like someone who was very grounded. And likable.”

Luc chuckled. “If you only knew . . .”

Silence fell around us, and I had so many questions. Like an entire night’s worth of them. “So you . . . you never met your parents?”

Luc shook his head. “Nope. Pretty sure they’re both dead.”

“I’m sorry.”

He raised a shoulder as he rolled his sleeve back down.

I was staring at him, at the planes and angles of his face. I knew I shouldn’t ask this, but kind of couldn’t help myself. “Did you grow up in one of the labs?”

“I did.” His lashes lifted.

“What . . . was that like?”

He looked away, and I didn’t think he’d answer. “It was like nothing. There was no sense of . . . self.” His jaw worked as his gaze trekked over the bare walls of his apartment. “There were no friends. No family. No worth beyond what we were created for. An Origin was just a single entity, but at the same time, all Origins were the entity. We were kind of like computers in a way. All of us. Programmed from birth to obey until . . .”

Tags: Jennifer L. Armentrout Origin Romance
Source: readsnovelonline.net