Page 64 of The Wolf

She was wet and in his arms.

Brine wanted the moment to never end, even though he knew the reason for this interaction was not one of lust or longing on Scarlet’s part but one of violence. He’d always like a woman with fight.

Brine focused on Scarlet’s furious face as she scratched at his arms, trying to gain purchase on his wet skin, because if he didn’t focus on her face then his eyes were sure to wander. Her wide blue eyes were dark with purpose, but Brine could sense a little excitement there too.

His little peach liked him too. The thought just made him hotter.

He used his superior strength to pull himself and Scarlet back to the edge of the tub, where she ended up straddling him, her knee pressed to his chest with a dagger at his throat. Brine hissed as she grabbed a handful of his hair and yanked his head back. Her dress floated along the top of the water.

It would be easy to reverse their positions. True, he risked getting his throat cut, but Brine almost wondered it if would be worth it. Although, his mate straddling him in the bath, giving him her undivided attention wasn’t such a hardship at all.

Scarlet’s chest was dripping wet, pale and heaving. So close he could bite her. She yanked on his hair again, pulling his attention back to her face.

“I want a truce,” she breathed, cheeks flushed.

“You have an odd way of showing it,” he quipped, unable to stop the incredibly Chesh-like response from leaving his lips. The bloody feline was rubbing off on him.

The barest flash of irritation crossed Scarlet’s face, but other than that she did not react. Brine wished to shake her, to force her to display some form of emotion. Where was the little girl he had known as a child? Gone? This woman was practically a husk.

“I have a way for both of us to get what we want,” Scarlet said, her voice slightly husky.

Brine somehow doubted that. How could their interests line up that well, after everything that had happened so far? But Brine didn’t want this moment to end, so he humored her.

“So tell me. How do we both get what we want?”

He couldn’t have possibly been prepared for what Scarlet said next.

“Marry me.”

THIRTY-ONE

SCARLET

“Marry me.”

“…excuse me?”

“You heard me,” Scarlet urged. “Marry me. Name me your bride at the celebration tomorrow.”

A beat of silence passed between them. Two. Three. The scent of peppermint and something moody and masculine—Brine—filled Scarlet’s nostrils. His hard body beneath her was distracting enough. If she hadn’t been trying to keep up a careful act in front of him, she might have given into the man. It would be easy. She’d never been attracted to anyone like Brine. Everything about him made her feel tiny and… safe. Her body was a traitor as she leaned closer to him, droplets of water on his lips entrancing her.

But then he laughed.

And part of Scarlet shriveled up at the sound.

Don’t let him get to you. Fight.

She couldn’t be cowed. Just because her childhood friend had clearly disappeared to be replaced by a mean, calculating shell of a man who had no problem infiltrating his old pack in order to take it down, who hid behind secrets upon secrets, who worked for the Dark Court, didn’t mean Scarlet should give up on her plan. His cruelty meant nothing. She had her own goals, and Brine was a pawn in that plan.

“You will not laugh if you hear me out,” Scarlet retorted. She pressed the dagger closer against his skin. She was begrudgingly impressed when he didn’t gulp, not even when she drew a single drop of blood. “I can give you what you want. I am the heir to Betraz. Everyone knows it. The only way my stepmother can get around this is if someone in her immediate bloodline produces an heir. But what if your heir is also mine? Not only will you then hold your grandmother’s organization in your hands, you’ll have a legitimate tie to the Betraz province as a whole. The manor will be yours. You’ll be the duke. Not even Queen Ansette herself can take it from you. Isn’t that what you want? Control?”

“No,” Brine said simply.

That wasn’t what Scarlet had expected to hear—not at all—but she was used to scheming, and compromise, and bribery. All she had to do was find out what Brinereallywanted. If power was not what he was going for, then he had to be protecting something.

“I know about the dragon and the fox.”

Thatcaught Brine’s attention. He snarled, bearing his fangs. Scarlet didn’t blink. She’d seen worse. “I do,” she insisted, when Brine stared at her in disbelief. “I saw them, in the forest, after your trial. Don’t think that I won’t expose you if you don’t make me your wife.”

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