Page 19 of Princes of Carnage

“Agreed.”

I nod. “But we’ll have a truce between us. No going behind each other’s backs, no fucking with each other’s business.”

Nico nods in return, his tattooed forearm flexing as he drums his fingers lightly against his upper thigh. “Done. And we’ll share information as we get it, as well as resources when it comes to defending against whoever this is.”

“Makes sense,” I say.

“And we’ll need to get married.”

It takes me a second to register his last words, and as soon as I do, my eyes flare wide with shock. What the fuck?

I scowl at him. “What the hell are you talking about?”

“Just what I said. We’ll have to get married.”

My pulse picks up, an instinctual fight-or-flight response making a surge of adrenaline shoot through my veins. I was already struggling to reconcile the idea of coming together with our rival gang and treating them as allies, but the idea of actually marrying Nico sends everything into a tilt.

Nico is still gazing at me steadily, waiting for my response. And this time, I don’t bother to hold back the words that bubble up behind my lips.

“You’re fucking insane,” I snap at him before turning and stalking away.

7

NICO

Quinn’s booted feet are loud against the pavement as she strides off, each footfall ringing out like a gunshot.

She’s clearly pissed off at my requirement for our alliance, but the sight of her storming away makes a nice view all the same. Her ass sways as she moves, her tight jeans and boots showing off her lithe curves, and her hair—which she’s dyed a teal color for as long as I’ve known her—glints with highlights of green and blue in the sunlight.

It takes me a second to tear my eyes away from her disappearing figure, and when I do, I glance at her crew. They haven’t quite followed her yet, as if they’re not sure whether the meeting is over or not.

“Keep an eye on things here,” I tell Atlas and Killian. Then I go after Quinn, knowing that those two won’t let anything happen while I’m gone. Our gangs aren’t allies yet, but they’ll make sure shit doesn’t get out of hand if any Enigma members start acting up.

Quinn is moving at a fast clip, clearly wanting to put some space between us, but I manage to catch up with her as she rounds the corner of a building down the street.

As I walk up behind her, she starts to slow down, lifting both hands and scrubbing them roughly over her face. Her back is to me, but I can see the tight set of her shoulders, the rigidness of her spine. There’s tension in every line of her body, like she’s holding her emotions in check by pure willpower alone.

I know I caught her off guard with that proposal.

I knew she wouldn’t like it.

But it had to be done.

Her shoulders slump a little more, and I grin to myself. Maybe she’s already realizing there’s no way out of this. If we’re going to team up, it’s the only way.

I step nearer to her, closing the distance between us now that she’s stopped walking. But as soon as I’m within arm’s reach, she moves like lightning, wheeling around quickly. Before I can react, she grabs my shoulder in a firm grip and drives her knee up, aiming right for my balls. I manage to shift my weight enough that it’s not a direct hit, but pain still throbs between my legs from the contact she did manage to make.

“Fuck,” I hiss. “Goddammit.”

I should’ve learned my lesson from the other day at the warehouse. She’s a fucking fighter, and I’ll have to remember that, or I’ll pay the price for it. Clenching my jaw, I drive her backward with my body weight, taking advantage of my heavier frame as my own fighter’s instincts kick in. I slam her into the wall of the building behind her, then let my arm come up to press across her throat, keeping her pinned in place.

We’re both breathing hard, and despite the ache in my balls, I keep my stance firm as I glare down at her. Her slate gray eyes are hard as she stares back up at me, looking like she either wants to spit in my face or claw my eyes out. Maybe both, knowing her.

“I hope this isn’t a preview of what our wedding night will be like,” I murmur, dropping my voice a little. “Is that any way to greet your future husband?”

Her nostrils flare at the last word, and I can feel her throat work beneath my forearm as she swallows. Her chest is rising and falling with sharp breaths, and I’m suddenly intently aware of everywhere our bodies are touching. We were in close proximity the other day, but Atlas was the one who had her pinned against the wall with his body, not me.

Did he notice how fucking gorgeous she is? Did he notice the way her breasts pressed against him as she struggled?

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