Page 73 of Pretty When She Breaks

The way the strips of black framed his pecs was borderline inappropriate, further stretching the already tight shirt. I swear my head spun as all the blood in my body was directed south, responding to the arousal that flared in my veins. It took me a few seconds to realize I was staring.

I stood up, probably too fast, shedding Prince’s arm as I blinked up at Finch. The bastard gave me a smirk, then let his eyes drift over the Lucas pack.

“I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure,” Finch said.

My host brain kicked back online, and I guided him into a chair on the balcony.

God, his arms felt so solid. I hesitated as I stood beside him, wanting to be closer but not wanting to arouse suspicion. How did I usually act?

Finch tugged me down so I was perched on the arm of his chair, his hand resting lightly on my back.

“Please let me introduce the Lucas pack,” I said, smoothing over my brief blip. “Dax, Madison, and Prince. They’re relatively new in town.”

“Recently returned,” Prince corrected, eyeing Finch with a sour look. “I grew up with Laurel here. Now we’re settling back into the family business."

“And this is Daniel Song. He’s a friend of Soren Rosania. Visiting from the West Coast, correct?”

“Sent out here to see what kind of stock you have in New Oxford,” Finch said, leaning back and raising an eyebrow. He had a commanding presence that felt like a physical pull, and he’d even caught Madison’s attention away from the fights.

Finch wore the suit well, but something about the gleam in his eyes and the calluses on his hands made it clear that he wasn't afraid to roll up his sleeves and get his hands dirty. I realized the harness gave the implication that he’d carried a weapon—one that would have been confiscated before he’d entered the Ring.

Dax’s posture had hardened, his gaze more assessing than Prince’s.

“How lucky for us,” Prince said, his voice dripping with venom. His eyes were fixed on where Finch’s hand was resting on my back.

I didn’t move. Prince didn’t own me, and I was more than happy to remind him of that. Finch swirled his glass, the whiskey stones clinking.

“Prince has some very promising ventures, I can assure you,” I said. “This pack has a stellar record in Boston, and they’re working with my father.”

Prince puffed up at the praise, and Dax relaxed slightly. Finch kept talking, and my mood soured as he continued to handle his persona like a natural. He knew what questions to ask to flatter the Lucas pack, but also delivered cutting ones that opened a problem he promptly hinted at the answer to.

His manipulation was subtle, nudges and suggestions woven in until he’d guided them to the obvious and utterly unavoidable conclusion that they needed him. He was good. Not as good as me, but still good. Prince’s initial animosity had been settled, and Dax was talking more.

“And what are your interests?” Prince asked, leaning forward.

“I’m actually here to study the fights. We’ve been hearing about the Blood Well here and there and decided to come see what makes it so successful.”

“Ah.” Prince’s grin was smug. “Well, they have a reliable way to ensure the fighters are always in a rut.”

“That’s impossible,” Finch countered.

Dax snorted. “Not when you’ve got a trick like ours. We’ve got a drug that can induce it in seconds.”

Finch’s eyes glinted with interest. “Now that’s interesting,” he said, leaning forward.

THIRTY-EIGHT

OCEAN

I woke to rough hands grabbing me and dragging me from my cell.

It wasn’t Casey this time; it was alphas, with their auras out. I didn’t fight as they took me from my cell and down a harshly lit corridor.

I could hear the roar of the crowd as we stepped into a round chamber, bare except for one cage in the corner and a huge, round cage in the middle. Above the round cage was an opening that was flooded with light, though I didn’t need to see up to know it was the Blood Well.

The alphas took me into one of the ante-cages. I was dragged to my knees, my bound arms secured to an alpha hook set into the floor. I blinked up at a bored-looking beta medic, who held a syringe in her hand.

All the mental preparation and reassurance I’d given myself drained away as I faced the medic.