Page 27 of Legacy of Chaos

“What?” His head snapped back so hard he heard a crack. “I’ve never—”

“Not physically.” She glided closer, every movement sinuous and seductive, and she wasn’t even trying. “Emotionally, perhaps. I don’t know. I’ve been watching a lot ofDr. Philreruns.” The mattress dipped as she sank onto the bed beside him, close but not touching. “You only come to me when you’re on the verge of death. It scares me to see you fighting yourself, and it hurts that you find me so repulsive.”

“Repulsive?” He stared at her in disbelief. “Is that what you think?”

“Why else would I be your last resort?”

“I—you’re not…repulsive.”

“Then why are you always so angry?” She shifted to face him, chin held high, accusation flickering in her dark gaze. “Why do you prefer to inject yourself with poison over being with me? Why do you run from me when you’re done?”

Swearing under his breath, he shoved his legs into his pants. “I’m not angry.”

“He said angrily.” She huffed. “Stryke, you’realwaysangry. And cold. And…” She seemed to think on it before saying decisively, “Efficient.”

Efficient?

Efficient?

What the ever-loving fuckity fuck of fucks?

Now, he was angry.

Reaching over, she took his hand. “I love you, Stryke. But the hate that fills you, if not for me, then for…whoever it is…makes sex with you…difficult.”

His rage faded as her words shredded his overinflated ego. What she’d said stung, but he’d asked for the truth. Whether she was right or wrong, it was how she saw him.

And that was one hundred percent on him.

He wanted to slit his own throat right now. He’d been such an asshole to her. He’d come to her only when he was at the very end of his rope, used her, taken from her, and given nothing back. Well, technically, she needed sex as much as he did to survive, but she got more than she needed with his brothers and cousins.

Still, their relationship, while mutual, had, from the day he’d rescued her, been wholly one-sided.

Which pretty much defined his entire life and every relationship in it.

Whoa. He’d had a breakthrough epiphany, hadn’t he?

If he was a decent person, he’d listen and learn. He’d give a shit. If he was a total asshole, he’d ignore it all and go kill someone just for fun.

Stryke was both and neither. So, he’d process the information and use it when appropriate.

Right now, it was appropriate to apologize. A huge apology was called for, really, but his pride could only take so much growth at once.

“Masumi.” His contrite voice was rough and rusty from disuse. “I’m…sorry. None of my behavior is because of—or aimed at—you.”

She smiled graciously, even though he could have tacked on about ten minutes more groveling and still not fully cover the depths of his dipshittery.

“Thank you. Now, I wasn’t lying when I said I felt Blade’s need. He’s been so busy helping plan your mother’s party that he forgets to find a partner.” She started toward the door. “I heard him tell Rade that you weren’t going.”

As if it was any of their business what he did or where he went. “So?”

She rolled one shapely shoulder in a sensual shrug. “If I had a mother, I wouldn’t miss her birthday party.”

She sounded just like Cyan. And Kynan. And his father.

It was just a birthday party. Why did people celebrate them, anyway? Congratulations, you got hatched from an egg or squeezed out of a vagina. Way to go.

“Just because you don’t understand something, doesn’t make it stupid or unworthy of concern, happiness, or interest. Don’t suck the joy out of things people are excited about.”

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