Page 44

Her skin is so silky soft. So unbearably fragile.

I let my fingers skate over her skin, enjoying her little shivers too much for such a fleeting touch.

There’s still so much newness with this, a thrill in being close enough to see the sweet part of her lips.

This polite distance between us is agony.

But I’m an experienced enough sadist to appreciate the torture.

I step closer to her, and she sinks into my side like her own weight is too much for her alone.

Unconsciously, like a breath. Like allowing me to touch her is intrinsic and immutable, as core to her nature as pretty tears or her vaguely concerning obsession with cheese.

She lets me hold her up, and despite the others raging around us, my pulse begins to slow.

It’s a simple, trusting gesture. I shouldn’t think twice on it.

And yet, it soothes every dominant impulse.

She gives me a tired smile, and worry buries my fascination. Dark circles underscore her eyes, undoubtedly from little sleep on already sapped energy.

Did Jaykob not allow her any rest?

Jaykob spreads the maps out as the others join him in the sitting room, and delicately sketched structures of Bristlebrook and its surroundings quickly engulf the coffee table.

“I need a supply list,” he mutters. “Someone?—”

Eden pulls away, and a cold gust sweeps in. It takes every effort not to descend to Jaykob’s level and snatch her back to me.

She pulls a folded piece of paper from the front pocket of her shirt.

Frowning, Jaykob stares at her chest.

Then at the paper.

“I got it from Kasey. I made some notes in the margins about rations. A few recipes.” Her fingers knot together nervously. “But I think the weapons are listed on the back?”

Without a word, Jaykob plucks the list out of her hands and starts reading.

Ungrateful buffoon.

“ Thank you , Eden,” I murmur pointedly, and she glances up at me, spots of color appearing in her cheeks.

She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. “Oh. Of course.”

Jaykob’s gaze snaps back and forth between us, and his eyes narrow on me.

He scowls. “Yeah. What he said.” Then he looks at Eden and his shoulders roll uncomfortably as he mutters, “Thanks.”

Her expression warms into an amused smile.

A moment later, Lucien’s golden head pops up beside Jaykob, craning to see the paper in his hands.

“So what is the deal with food? How soon before we need to go full cannibal?” Dominic rounds the table, looking at the maps, and Lucien nudges him.

“‘Cause I’m already looking at Dom. Thick flank piece off that bad boy with a nice wine? I’m ready. ”

Dominic gives him a dry look, and my lips twitch despite myself. Flashes flood me like light—Lucien’s hot mouth on my abdomen, the roughness of his hair under my palms as I split his legs, his laughter against my chest.

He’s here with me. The sun escapes the clouds, and I feel myself relaxing into his teasing.

“Too tough, I think,” Eden offers with a small smile. “Surely we should pick someone softer.”

“You volunteering, then, beautiful?” Lucien’s grin turns wicked. “Well, all right. I’d be happy to eat your?—”

“ No ,” Jaykob snaps, and Beaumont runs a hand over his face.

The image stalls in my brain.

My brat winks at me, then nudges Jaykob.

“So how long will the food last? A few months?” When Lucien doesn’t receive a response, he frowns.

“What, weeks?” Jaykob only grunts, and Lucien’s hopeful expression becomes nervous.

“ Days ? Holy shit, sorry, Dom. You were a real pal. Jasper, get the Chianti.”

My attention sharpens.

I know our situation is dire, but surely we have longer than that.

“ Days ?” Beaumont’s hand drops from his face. He turns away from the group. “God damn it. Can’t we just catch one fucking break?”

A chill creeps up my spine at the hollow ring to his voice. He’s spinning out. I study him, torn. Should I take him aside? The last time I tried, he refused to listen to a word.

Eden notices as well, her smile dying as she watches him.

Jaykob flips the paper, ignoring them all. “We have forty-four guns, only sixteen MKs. The rest are pistols. About 200 mags. Five pounds of C-4. The Gustaf, and a handful of rounds for that?—”

Dominic braces both hands on the table, bending down over the maps. “You do want to attack.”

His tone is mild, but Jaykob’s back stiffens anyway. “I’m not a fucking idiot. They might look like target practice, but they came ready. They could have any kind of shit stashed.”

Lucien looks between them. Blond hair twists around his jaw. “Hey, there’s also the?—”

“Right. We need an advantage.” Dominic nods, examining the markings carefully and ignoring Lucien in a way that sets my teeth on edge.

Rubbing the back of his head, Lucien tries again. “You should really think about?—”

Jaykob scowls, bending over the map too. “Yeah, no shit we need an advantage. You actually have an idea, or do you just feel like stating the obvious?”

Dominic’s jaw flexes, and Lucien sighs.

Jaykob drops his soiled boxers onto my custom-made Mulberry silk sofa and hauls Eden onto his lap as he studies the maps. Dandling her on his knee the way he did when he sat atop his absurd throne.

It’s a statement .

From our new king.

The air in the room snaps with tension as he wraps a possessive arm around her.

Lucien’s eyes narrow, and Dominic stiffens, staring at them, before he forces his gaze back to the maps.

Even Beaumont pauses, turning back to eye them, his lips flattening.

Like a spreading shadow, the men’s fury washes through the room, a quiet defiance of the morning’s bright, sparkling sunshine.

My own ire simmers, and last night’s resolve toward diplomacy begins to smoke.

Burning with restless irritation, I push off the wall and begin circling the room. Lucien squeezes my hand as I walk past, but this time, it does little to alleviate my displeasure.

This needs to end.

Why did I decide on civility? Jaykob has never listened to reason before. Why should I think he’ll begin now? Why must I always take the high road?

As Lucien has so recently led me to discover, bending the rules is far more enjoyable.

Eden’s gaze drifts between us, her worry draining into something careful. Something distinctly guarded.

Oblivious to the hostility, Jaykob tucks her against him to look over the maps. “We could use the Gustaf. That could give us some room, no matter what they’re packing.”

It’s not quite a question, as though he can’t even bring himself to ask for advice.

“What’s a Gustaf?” Eden asks, twisting to look at him.

Dominic’s brow kicks up. “The bazooka. You might remember it from your breaking-and-entering stint.”

Delicate color kisses her cheekbones. “Ah.”

“Aw, memories.” Lucien sighs.

Moving around, he cups the side of Eden’s jaw, leaning down for a kiss.

Jaykob’s wide hand intercepts him, and, without looking up, he shoves Lucien back by his face.

“Hey. Hey !” Lucien bats him away, rolling his eyes. “Okay, okay, settle down, Dad. I won’t kiss her in the house.”

Under his humor, I hear the edge of irritation.

“We use the Gustaf,” Jaykob snaps, and this time there’s no hint of a question. “Send them running.”

As he sits back in his chair, his hand begins to track up the inside of Eden’s thigh, and her face floods with scarlet alarm.

Beaumont falls carefully still.

“Great, let’s do it.” Lucien drops down beside Jaykob and Eden on the too-petite sofa, his eyes glued on where Eden has trapped Jaykob’s hand between her thighs.

His humor fades, the mask they don’t seem to realize is a mask is beginning to slip.

“Hey, we’re nice and within range, so we get to blow ourselves to smithereens while we’re at it.

Always loved me some murder-suicide action.

Solves our starvation problem, too. Good plan. Solid. Dibs on being the one to fire.”

He reaches for Eden but, in a single, smooth move, Jaykob moves her to his other knee.

And this time, Lucien’s face hardens.

It’s a look that reminds me, very vividly, that my sweet brat used to switch .

Muttering, Beaumont walks over to lean against the wall by the sliding doors like he wants to escape all of us, and Dominic’s heavy arms fold over his chest.

The air is dark, electric, and the corner of Jaykob’s lips lift smugly.

So. He’s not oblivious.

He’s waging war on multiple fronts.

I pause in my strolling to turn, studying him coldly. Studying each of the men around me.

Dominic pulls his eyes from Jaykob to look back at the map, but I don’t miss the muscle ticking in his jaw. “Lucky’s right. We can’t use high explosives or area defense rounds. Maybe something with the smoke?”

The rug whispers under my loafers as I walk.

I stare at the vulnerable back of Jaykob’s head, noting the raised hairs on the back of his neck with spiteful satisfaction.

Lucien tracks me across the room.

“Do we have to attack?” Those eyes of his prettily, silently implore me to stop. “That has to be our last option, right? They’re not being aggressive. Why can’t we just negotiate?”

Cold amusement touches my lips.

Eden’s head cants to the side, listening for me as I pass behind their sofa. A deer twitching its ears as it senses danger.

Nefarious enjoyment licks down my spine. Jaykob may have taken hold of her, but he can’t claim her attention. Not all of it.

She’s attuned to all of us.

I wonder what she thinks about all of this.

I wonder if her King would ever bother to ask.

“A siege is a siege. I’m not letting Reapers pen us in here like fucking pigs,” Jaykob growls. “If we can’t get out, we can’t hunt. We can’t hunt, we die.”

“They’re worried about their people.” Lucien meets his gaze, firm and serious. “They invited us to breakfast . Maybe we can leave the Gustaf behind this time. Listen to me. I think we should use the?—”