Page 43 of Viper

She’s so beautiful. He was such a prick. I guess the rumors about him were true. Too bad it took a year of marriage for her to find out he’s just a sleaze like the rest of the men in Rune’s circle.

Viper tugs on my hair, grabbing my attention. My focus shifts to him. His entire body seems to flicker like a flame that’s either going to burst with brightness, or snuff out and throw everything into darkness.

“You’re really intense,” I whisper. He always has been, and I’m not sure what’s changed in the last week, but he’s somehowbigger, more consuming of the air in the room. “Did you start taking steroids or something?”

That earns me a chuckle and a smile so wide that I blink in the brilliant flash of it, leaving me overexposed and too hot.

“And you, Cora Julian, are a force to reckon with,” he says quietly. “And maybe a little too curious for your own good.”

“How’s that?” I keep my voice low, aware that Breaker and Clyde are across the room having a discussion of their own.

“Foxes are smart. Sneaky. They know how to hide.” Viper runs the backs of his fingers along my jaw, sending sparks of light through my skin. “And they have keen senses that help them survive.” He leans in close so I feel his breath on my ear. “And they have exceptional hearing.”

I suck in a breath, images of the past flashing through my head like some fucked-up montage. My mother, Zane’s face, my father. Zane kissing my mother as he entered the house.

Zane sitting in my parent’s office, planning with my mother to wreck Rune’s life.

“Gotcha,madadh ruadh,” Viper says, watching my reaction. “Your secret may be deadlier than mine.”

My face flushes.

He knows I’m lying.

He knows exactly what I’m keeping a secret.

But that’s impossible. There is no way that Viper could know.

Only Zane knows what my mother did because he was the one who made the call. I didn’t hear the words, but I knew what he was saying. He was ordering a hit to end Delilah’s mother’s life.

Chapter 15

Striker

Forgivenessdoesn’tcomeeasily.It never has. Fallon always told me it was one of my best qualities outside of my aim. Once a person shows me who and what they are, I will remember it. And if they cross me, I’ll keep my anger tucked neatly away, and never, ever let it go.

Father’s betrayal weighs heavily, making my mind spin. I will forever feel the cold pistol pressed against my head as he threatened to kill me.

I’ve spent half my life knowing Fallon murdered the boys at the school he didn’t think were fit, removing them one by one over the years, and somehow even knowing that my life was no more valuable than another’s, I never considered he’d kill me. Any of us. We were his prized soldiers. The best.

The last left standing. As if that somehow made us exempt.

Except now we know we’re not. Fallon’s thirst for control and need to avenge Hunter’s death outweighs any love he may have for us.

I rake my fingers through my hair, tugging it at the roots. A skittering unease crawls up my spine, my nerve endings like live wires. I glance out the window at the drive where Reaper and Fallon have been talking in private, while I’m trapped in the house with Father’s new soldiers, pacing and losing my fucking mind.

Like I’m not a part of this nightmare. Like I didn’t lose my brother, and spent years planning and watching alongside them.

Grinding my teeth, I slow my near-manic pace, and square my shoulders, dragging an assessing gaze along the line of ten soldiers Father brought with him. Other than their eyes and their size, they are all identical. Same masks, same all-black uniforms, and weapons. They line the foyer, blocking the front door.

And my exit.

The skin on my arms prick, and it takes everything in me not to scratch my nails down my forearms. I’m trapped in this fucking house, those old fears, winding me up tighter and tighter. As each minute ticks by, it’s becoming harder and harder to keep my mind from sliding back to the darkness and that cold room.

Cold. Alone.

Terrified.

I glance over my shoulder toward the second floor, where I locked Delilah in her room. My jaw tightens, the image of Father taking the belt to her, cutting through me.