Page 43 of Wicked Pursuit

An alliance.

Something is going wrong in my stomach, my chest. It feels like I’m free-falling and slamming to earth, all at once. “I see.”

“Get that look off your face,” he snaps.

“Make me,” I snap right back.

“I’m not sorry I lied to you. If I’d told you the truth, you would have run crying to your parents and then things would have gotten complicated. If you’re waiting for an apology, you’re going to wait a long fucking time, baby.” His expression is so damn serious. “The moment I knew who you were, I claimed you as mine. We were always going to end up here. And I was never going to play fair.”

Because I’m the fucking Belmonte heir.

Did I think I was feeling reckless before? Well, that was nothing compared to right now. I want to scream at him, to claw at his face, to grab a gun and pull the trigger over and over until there are no bullets left. He lied to me, yes, but I’m starting to realize I was already rationalizing that away. Because he wantedme.

Except he didn’t. He was sent to seduce and marry the Belmonte heir. If I had an older sibling, it would be them beneath him right now. Not me.

“Ruby—”

“Huntsman.”

He blinks down at me as if he can’t believe I just said it. Casimir eases off me but doesn’t move far away. “This conversation isn’t done.”

No, it’s not. I can’t go back to Carver City with him chasing me. Even if I called in my parents, he’s theMad Wolf. He’s a notorious killer, and while my fathers might be able to kill him before he hurts them... there are no guarantees. And if they succeed? I’m not ready to examine the pain that thought causes.

“I need some space.”

“No.”

I slide off the bed and start looking around for something to put on. The rubies on my collar slide luxuriously against my skin, and I want to rip them off with my bare fingers, but Casimir has the key and I don’t feel like arguing with him to get it back. “You don’t get to tell me no. Not right now. Gods, you don’t even see why I’d be pissed about this, do you? It’s like talking to a wall.”

He watches me with a predator’s intent but makes no move to get off the bed. It doesn’t matter. I know firsthand how fast he is when he wants to be. There’s nowhere in this room that I can escape him. Which means I need to get out of the room.

“When’s the last time you ate?”

His question brings me up short. I spin around and point my finger at him. “Don’t do that.”

“Don’t do what?”

“Don’t ask me aLukequestion.” I am notorious for getting bitchy when I’m hungry, and at some point, when we were on the verge of arguing for real, Luke learned to ask me that question. It’s frankly embarrassing how many arguments died a quiet death the moment I got some protein in me.

Casimir may have Luke’s face, may be asking me Luke’s question, but thatcan’tmean anything. Softening toward him, sharing a smile in acknowledgment that my blood sugar is probably low, letting two years ofknowinga person make me believe his lies? Out of the question.

He watches me closely. “I’ll call for some food.”

“I’d rather leave the room and get it myself.” I glare. “You know, stretch my legs and shit.”

“You’re going to run.” Now, finally, he moves, easing off the mattress and pulling on his pants. “Haven’t you figured it out yet, baby? There’s nowhere you can run that I can’t find you. I’ll chase you to the ends of the earth if that’s what it takes.”

My stomach does that strange swoopy thing again, but I’m too twisted up to tell if it’s good or bad. Maybe it really is just hunger. “Because I’m the heir.”

His brows slam together. “Because you’re mine.”

“Tomato-tomahto.” I grab the silk robe that’s been left on the hook in the bathroom. It’s short and slinky and leaves nothing to the imagination, but at least I’m not naked.

I stalk to the door and bang on it. “Let me out. I’m done.” I am not ready to cancel the contract, but surely they have surveillance—whether digital or a person lingering in the halls if something goes wrong.

“We’re not done.”

“I am.” The lock clicks open, and I shove out into the hallway.

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