Page 34 of Greed: The Savage (Seven Deadly Sins #7)

“…That’s why you were with the baroness…You weren’t necessarily there to fuck her…That would have been a mere added bonus. You were there to court her …”

A savage pounding filled his skull.

Addien was the goddamned sun—and he’d let her think she was nothing.

He’d made her nothing.

“…You want me…the same way I want you. We are the same. Both animals…”

He’d meant it as truth. A raw, unvarnished piece of himself.

But he saw it now; in her eyes, in the stiff line of her shoulders, how it had cut her. How he’d made her feel less, when she was everything.

No. She’s not gone. Like knowing when the ground is about to give way beneath you, he’d know.

He shook his head, for himself and for Dynevor. “She’s got Roy here. She wouldn’t leave.”

Because of me.

Dynevor’s mouth lifted in a sneer. “Did she fuck you or Roy?”

If she’s gone, I won’t survive it.

If Mac Diggory harms her, I’ll drag him to hell myself —then follow him down for letting her be hurt.

Gone. She is gone.

Gone.

Gone.

Christ, what have I done?

Ravaged, he looked at Dynevor’s bored expression. “When?” Who did that harsh, desperate entreaty belong to? Surely not Thornwick.

“Earlier this morning.”

Oh, Christ, help me.

Dragging his hands through his hair, Thornwick backed away from Dynevor. Distance was all that kept him from killing the rat—cutting down Diggory’s son in the flesh would set the war ablaze too soon. Once Addien was in his arms and far from this city on the brink, the devil could come out to play.

A hammering filled his ears. Somewhere in that pounding came the roar of a savage beast—his own—as he launched himself across the desk. Fisting Dynevor’s shirt lapels, he hauled the man forward, set him on his feet, and gave him a brutal shake.

“Where the hell is she?” he hissed, forcing the words past lungs that fought for air.

“I’m not looking to play games,” Dynevor said, his voice still steeped in the cockney he’d slipped into since Diggory’s return—as if the king of the hamlet had come home and the son had remembered his proper tongue.

The reckless younger man mocked him with a smile.

“Oi offered her places to go. Said Oi’d sent her to the Hell and Sin.

Oi suggested she go to any one of my sisters’ houses to do servant’s work. ”

Addien as a servant? He’d fucking burn every last townhouse in London before she lifted a finger in anyone’s household.

The panicky rhythm of Thornwick’s heart picked up an even more frantic beat. “Where is she?”

Was that pleading voice his? He didn’t beg. Not for anything. Not for anyone.

Who the hell had he become? It was like watching himself from outside his own skin, unable to make sense of any of it. He’d been stripped of his pride. Addien took it with her when she went—

“Snap went somewhere none of us could touch her.” Dynevor smirked. “And by us, I strongly suspect she meant you .”

Rage surged through him, scorching hot, and he let out a roar that tore from his chest.

“You bloody kept me here—working on an assignment for you—all the while knowing she was gone and I’d go after her.”

Dynevor gave a lazy shrug. “Work first.”

Work first.

Yes. That had been the motto by which Thornwick had lived too.

Work before all. Work before people. Before feeling. Before living.

How bloody shallow. How empty.

How meaningless it all was—until her.

A tortured moan dragged from deep inside his chest. “Bloody hell, tell me where she’s g—”

“Forbidden Pleasures.” All the humor and taunting jeering was gone from the younger man’s voice. This time, there was a trace of something unexpected from Dynevor—sympathy.

“Forbidden Pleasures,” Thornwick whispered, the syllables fraying under the weight of what they meant.

She’d gone to the one place no one at the Devil’s Den could reach her—

And the last place Thornwick could follow.

A place where his brother had once tried to have the proprietor’s wife killed.

That club—built by noblemen, a direct rival to the empire Diggory, Dynevor, and their street family had carved from the gutter.

Forbidden Pleasures. The first and most obvious enemy on Diggory’s list for punishment.

The earth shifted beneath him. “Oh, God,” he whispered.

“Come now.” Dynevor clicked his tongue. “You and I both know there’s no such thing as God.”

No. There wasn’t. Not until Addien. Until her, he’d never summoned the Lord’s name in prayer or curse.

What he did know, as Dynevor did, was evil existed.

Satan’s power walked this earth. And there was a place, beyond where the eternally damned went, where they played and paid the price for their sins.

Thornwick was ready to battle the Devil himself to see her safe. No! His fingers curled, flexed, fighting the need to break something now. Not just safe—returned.

Only then could he tell her what he’d denied even to himself until now—

Losing her had shown him the truth.

He needed her. Wanted her.

Loved her.

He loved her.

And if he couldn’t be with her in life, then by God he would climb into hell itself, drag her out, and restore her to the light where she belonged. Not him. He was still marked for hell.

The trembling started deep in Thornwick’s bones. He’d pay his dues. Make atonement. Sell his soul.

But she would live. She would be safe. She would be happy.

Or he’d burn the whole world down and everyone along with it to make it so.