Page 148 of Cruel When He Smiles

Roman numerals.

XIII.

My brain immediately flashes to the same tattoo I’ve seen behind Killian’s ear.

Nate

Suddenly,mychestfeelstoo tight.

Initially, I don’t say anything. I’m trying to piece everything together without looking like a complete idiot, but the thought is already there, gnawing at the edges of my mind.

Matching tattoos.Matching tattoos that aren’t small, discreet bullshit, but big enough to make a statement. A statement you make when you belong to someone. Sage and I have tattoos on the same side of our bodies, we got them done at the same place, at the same time. An animal we associate with, covered in roses and ivy. Something to show our brotherhood. A snake and a panther.

The image of Killian leaning against the door frame, watching me that day outside Liam’s room, pushes in uninvited. How he never says much around me but somehow makes it feel like he’s dissecting every move I make.

I’m probably being ridiculous. But then another part of me—the part that’s always waiting for Liam to pull the rug out—starts whispering that maybe I’m not.

“You gonna keep staring at my back or…?” Liam’s voice pulls me out of my head, and when he glances over his shoulder at me, there’s a smirk there, but it’s thin. His eyes aren’t amused.

I almost play dumb, but the words are already bubbling up. “That tattoo… it’s the same one Killian has.”

He turns fully, one brow raised, and for a second, he just studies me. “And?”

I laugh under my breath, but it’s bitter. “And I’m wondering why the hell you and Killian have matching ink. What exactly am I missing here?”

The edge in my voice must register, because his expression flattens into something that resembles the Liam I know. “You think it’s romantic?”

“I think it’s suspicious,” I shoot back. “You don’t strike me as the matching tattoo type. And, I don’t know, I’ve seen the way Killian looks at you, and he’s super protective of you. It’s too close for it to just be casual.”

His mouth curves—not in a smile, but in this slow, knowing smirk like he’s half amused, half insulted. “You really think I’d get something like this with him for the same reasons you’re imagining?”

“I think you haven’t given me a reason not to think that,” I shrug one shoulder because I don’t trust myself not to sound defensive if I say it outright. “I’ve just never seen you that close to anyone but him. And matching tattoos usually mean something.”

“They do.” He steps toward me slowly until there’s barely a foot between us, and his gaze stays locked on mine. “But not what you’re thinking.”

I cross my arms, partly because I feel stupid for letting my brain run this way and partly because I don’t know if I’m ready for whatever explanation he’s about to give. “Then what does it mean?”

He studies me for a long beat, then exhales like he’s deciding whether to throw me a bone. “It’s not a romantic thing. Killian’s my brother.”

That makes me blink, and my brain literally glitches. “Yourbrother?”

“Half-brother,” he corrects. “He’s two months older, and we have different mothers, but the same father. We didn’t know for sure until we were thirteen. My mother kept diaries like trophies. I found out the truth in one of them and told Killian. We’ve been… close ever since.”

Close.That’s one word for it, but the way he says it has weight.

He looks up at me, and for once, there’s no manipulation in his face, just the kind of blunt honesty that feels heavier than any lie could. “Killian’s father is the reason I exist because he raped my mother—his cousin’s wife.”

The confession makes my stomach turn for him, and I frown, trying to line up what I know with what he’s telling me now. “So, the tattoo?”

“We got it when we were seventeen. The day before my parents’ funeral.” His tone doesn’t change when he says it, but there’s something in the way his eyes go darker. “Behind his ear for him, down my spine for me. It’s a promise.”

I let that sink in for a second, but curiosity keeps pushing. “A promise for what?”

Liam’s jaw works as he watches me. “Loyalty, no matter what.”

It sounds simple, but his tone makes it anything but. “You’ve never told me about him like this before.”

“You’ve never asked without already being pissed off at me,” he says evenly, and yeah, okay, maybe he has a point.