Jealous Eyes Novels & Stories

he questions, raising an eyebrow. "Your wife." I spat, literally spat, the liquid spraying over his face. This only serves to make him more angry, as his eyes turn completely black, but instead of blowing up like I expected him to, he smirks again and says, "Jealous?" "Of course I'm jealous!" I explode, "How does it feel to have your mate with somebody else for you? What do you feel like when you think about me with another man?" If his eyes could grow any darker than solid black, they would have. A small snarl rips from his lips.

“And my eyes are always green!” He crossed the room moving towards me cautiously. When he got to me, he grabbed my shoulder and turned me towards the dresser so I could see our reflection in the mirror above it. My jaw dropped. My eyes were still green, but there was a thick gold ring around the iris. I shrugged it off, it didn’t mean anything. “I have a friend whose eyes change color from sky blue to grey depending on her mood,” I rolled my eyes. “And I’m not jealous, I’m angry.” “Why?” he shrugged, “she was just doing her job.”

The jealousy he had been nursing all night exploded into a desperate, needy hunger. "Yes," he hissed, his voice dropping to a terrifyingly low register. He grabbed her waist and pulled her flush against him, his hands digging into the silk of her gown. "I am jealous. I am losing my goddamn mind with it. Every time I see a man look at you, I want to tear his eyes out. I want to lock you in this room, bolt the door, and never let another living soul see you. I want to tear this dress off you and mark every inch of your skin so clearly that no other man would ever dare think you were free."

Jealousy was an ugly emotion, and super unattractive, so I was hesitant to call this squeeze in my chest, this grainy burn behind my eyes, jealousy. But I could not honestly find another accurate term for it. I looked up at Delilah, and she seemed to sense my gaze because those tired eyes peeled open a slit, and she shook her head. “Why did you think you should show me this?” I asked. It was one thing when the dogs had given me a verbal report of what happened, but watching it for myself… “Why?” my voice was louder this time, but she remained quiet, and my pinky reached out and touched the button.

I asked. I tried my best to keep my voice low and calm. I didn’t want to poke the beast when he was already past irritated. He nudged my wrist with the tip of his shoe. His green eyes were filled with irritation and they flared with something else, something dark, something fierce. Jealousy.

* Mia. I felt a hot gaze on my body. It burns so intensely that I am forced to look in the direction of the glare, and there he is, my mate. No, my detested mate. He is gazing me down with a venomous gaze. His eyes are filled with jealousy. I can tell he’s mentally slicing me into pieces in his mind. He’s filled with rage. What exactly is Miller’s issue?

She saw the jealousy and possessiveness in his eyes, very fierce and dangerous like peril. "Can you see that? It happens whenever I see you with another man, the past or present, it still does." She knows what he means with the past and present. He meant when she was with Mika'il, she gulped down, her eyes still meandering around his. Her breathing is now shallow because for some odd reasons, it turns her on seeing that immense intense jealousy in his eyes. He is was more jealous than Mika'il, far more. His jealousy is on another level, she can see that in his eyes making her wonder how he's managed to suppress it when she was with Mika'il.

Minerva whined. "I'm not jealous." "Not only are you jealous, you are also a liar. Your eyes are practically green with envy," Minerva said. "That's because the color of my eyes are green, dumbass," I barked. "Hey!" Minerva laughed. "I meant your face, okay? Your face is green with jealousy. You can't stand it when Matthew touches her, can you?" "I don't care," I said. "Okay, if you don't care then dance with me and stop looking at her," Minerva said.

My breathing became a little more obvious, almost embarrassingly loud in the quiet room, as I stared directly into his face. My eyes couldn’t seem to stay in one place—flickering restlessly from his dark, unreadable gaze to the shape of his lips and back again, like I was searching for an answer in either one. “The hell, yes, Seven. Yes, I was jealous, and I’m not even trying to hide it.” The words tumbled out of my mouth before I could soften them, blunt and sharp like they’d been waiting all night to escape.