Page 70 of Reign

But we don’t do that kind of thing. I wave good night and step into my room, shutting the door.

Then choke on a scream as I’m backed into the wall.

24

Callie

A familiar, freshwater scent envelopes me, even as I squirm and bare my teeth.

The room is dark—pitch black—yet Chase’s opaque outline, darker than shadows, more languid than shade, overtakes what little vision I have.

The backs of my hands hit the wall behind me, his unyielding grip on my wrists driving them hard into the plaster.

“The fuck do you think you’re doing?” he snarls, his teeth snapping near my nose.

I don’t flinch. “I’d be quiet if I were you. Your sister’s one scream away.”

Chase growls in answer. My wrists flop onto the top of my head at his sudden release, his footsteps clomping away.

He flings my door open, the shaft of light caressing his twisted, aggravated features.

“Emma!” he barks. “Go to the lake house.”

“What?” comes her addled reply. I don’t think she expected him here any more than I did. I hear the fridge door shut. “Why?”

“Because I said so. Now.”

“You’re not my keeper, Chase.”

“If you don’t leave in the next minute, all you’ll hear is Callie’s constant orgasms and my pounding—”

“Ew! Don’t go any further!”

“Uh, how about don’t do it at all?” I cut in.

Chase whips his head toward me, his finger cutting through the air as he points. “If I were you, I’d shut the fuck up at this moment. I can’t promise I’ll be a gentleman any more than you can promise not to betray me.”

My mouth drops open. “That’s not—”

“Callie. Fucking zip it. Emma, get the fuck out.”

Chase’s entire body tightens at each jerky move he throws out, gesturing to his sister, pointing at me. His thighs bulge in his pants, primed to leap, while his torso ripples under his thin white shirt, begging for release.

I’m not sure what concerns me more. The fact that he’s cursing at us like he’s never done before, or that he looks about to explode, or that Chase has been here long enough to strip down to his undershirt and slacks without Emma or I noticing.

I squint at him. This can’t possibly be all due to Tempest, can it? “Chase, what’s going on?”

He doesn’t bother to look my way. “Go,” he says to his sister through the doorway. “Unless you want me to make you.”

“You had me at ‘pounding,’ dear brother. I’m outta here.”

I push off the wall. “Emma, wait—” but, my voice cuts off as soon as I note Chase’s flinch at Emma’s use of “brother,” the lamplight bathing his expression in golden pain.

“Unless,” Emma quantifies, “Callie wants me to stay. Do you, Callie?”

My palms press into the wall in an automatic retreat to Chase’s expression. He glares at me under his brows, allowing my response, but his nostrils flare impatiently.

“It’s okay,” I say, keeping my eyes on Chase. “I’ll be fine.”

---