Page 43 of The Gathering Storm

Sigrid hesitated half a second. “Anya is an old friend.”

“That’s no answer.”

“She will not stop me.” Sigrid’s blue eyes shifted toward Will. “Especially given our relationship.”

“That of Daughter and sex slave?” Chana’s laughter rang out, no longer light and airy, but hard and skeptical. “The rumors of your past have reached even my ears, Sigrid Deathknell. Your maltreatment of men is legendary. Will would fare far better under my care, as his female kin will agree.”

Will held his hands up, palms out. “Now, wait a minute. Who I date is nobody else’s business, least of all Amma’s.”

“But whom you marry is, indeed, of great concern.” Chana rolled her shoulders and stepped away from Will, facing Sigrid. “My family needs the alliance with the beloved grandson of a councilmember, and a close cousin of the Blade, and I have high hopes of breaking my long immortality with a Son of such beauty and wit.”

Sigrid’s sword hand twitched so slightly, he only noticed because he was watching her. “I should’ve killed you for touching him.”

“You could try.”

Will skirted the desk and placed himself between them, carefully out of reach of both. “Hold on, now. This is still my decision.”

“You lost the right to make this decision,” Sigrid said in a voice so cold, goosebumps popped up on his skin, “when you came willingly to my bed. I challenge you, Chana Wolfbane, Daughter of Pari Bakhshesh, of the line of Eleni, for your temerity in touching my property.”

Chana stared down her finely crafted nose at Sigrid. “When and where?”

“For fuck’s sake,” Will muttered. “I’m not letting y’all fight over me. This isn’t the fucking middle ages.”

Sigrid’s eyes flashed fire. “Not your call.”

“Fine. Kill each other for all I care.” He snagged a piece of paper and jotted down a note to set up a challenge, then threw his pen down and glared at both of them. “I’ll make the arrangements, but until then, if I hear even one rumor of y’all exchanging cross words, I’ll ban you both from The Omega and make sure Rebecca tacks on a suitable punishment. Deal?”

Chana nodded. “It is agreed.”

She bowed to him, then walked out, never taking her eyes off Sigrid until the door closed on her.

Will crossed his arms over his chest, leaned back against the desk, and turned his glare on Sigrid. “What the fuck?”

Her lips thinned into a hard, red slash. “You accepted her touch.”

“I did no such thing.”

“Her hands were on you.”

He tamped down on the anger roiling around in his gut. Getting mad at her would not help this situation, no matter how much he wanted to yell at her. “And? Are you going to challenge every woman who dares to get close?”

“Only the ones who wish to—” Her teeth clicked together, cutting off her words. “You will present yourself to me within half an hour of closing tonight.”

He shook his head. “Oh, no, princess. We’re not going there.”

“We are going,” she said through clenched teeth, “exactly where I decide we will go. Present yourself, or I shall hunt you down and chain you to my bed.”

“Well, I guess that would be a first,” he said, and immediately regretted the sarcasm when she paled and flinched away.

“Half an hour, Will.”

She pivoted on the ball of one foot and marched away, and he scrambled after her, his anger gone under the weight of regret.

“Sigrid, wait. I didn’t mean it.”

She paused at the door and half turned toward him, nodded once, and then she slipped away, as quietly as she’d entered.

Will stood in the middle of his office, hands on hips, and stared up at the ceiling. Sweet Mother, he’d royally screwed that one up. He had a funny feeling the screwing was just beginning, too. Rebecca might welcome an exhibition, but she was sure to pitch a hissy fit about Sigrid’s challenge, and his grandmother…

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