Page 13 of The Brotherhood

She looked and gave him a nod, finding his gaze locked on her chest with a look of pure disgust. “Nice to meet you, Handy,” she said, cringing inwardly at the slight shake in her voice.

She sat and returned to the safety of Mr. Harlow’s blue eyes, regathering her courage. “How can I be of service?”

“I would like to talk to her in private,” Handy demanded.

“She will remain chaperoned,” Mr. Skul informed, his tone a block of ice.

“Of course she will,” Mr. Harlow said as Handy stood and headed for the door. “Bruh, where are you going?” he cried.

“To find another solution.”

“You know your way out,” Mr. Skul called, happily.

“Let me speak to him,” Poppy said, standing.

“You will not,” Mr. Skul ordered.

His persuasive gifts would’ve knocked her back in her seat if her own weren’t fully engaged. Her pulse hammered in her chest as she faced her beloved mentor, preparing her own influences to cut the leash. “Mr. Skul, I will be forever grateful for your mentorship in my life," she began with utmost kindness. “But I wish to speak to Mr. Handy alone and properly assess and weigh whether or not I should take this job. You can be sure I will use the full force of my gifts to make this assessment, along with the six years and twenty-two days of wisdom you have provided me with to do so. Thank you.”

She turned and made her way to the door on pure adrenaline. It carried her along with a miraculous grace and poise as she searched the corridor for her desperately needed runaway job.

She spotted him standing outside the building and with her gifts on full throttle, she saw a wounded, lone wolf, trapped in a cage, that was trapped in another cage, that was trapped in yet a third cage.

She hurried to the door and pushed it open. “What is it,” she said, hurrying right up to him. “You want to talk to me. Let’s talk.”

He gathered the full fury of his situation into those golden eyes and leveled it right on her, getting closer than was permitted by school standards. “How old are you?”

Surely, he fully knew that answer. “I just turned eighteen last week. How old are you?” She crossed her arms, holding those now slitted eyes. “I don’t know a lot about you,” she added, “but I know you’re maybe five years old.” She managed a tinysmile. “I won’t judge you by your age if you don’t judge me by mine.”

“Is this your gift? Being clever with words?”

“Tell me why you don’t want me to do this job? You don’t even know me.”

“I know enough about you.”

“Then it shouldn’t be difficult to tell me why I’m not suitable for this job. The last thing I want to do is take employment I’m not suitable for. So, I’m here talking to the one who knows better than anybody what that will require. Inform me and I will accept whatever facts you present and even help you find an alternate solution if it is in my power to.”

He stepped back, all but his gaze now lowered to her chest again. “Your nipples are hard.”

Oh God.

It was the one area she was not the least trained to fight in.

“Would you let me taste test the goods?” he asked, those golden eyes now molten and on hers. Testing. That’s all he was doing.

She fought to breathe, fully certain his stare would be less lethal on her chest. “I might. If you weren’t tasting with another man’s body.”

She caught the shift of colors in his gaze with that one, diving for it to understand. She suddenly realized he had his own defenses up, but they were pliable. His stare slowly moved down like lava crawling over her skin, lighting her blood on fire and sucking the air from her lungs. “If you’re looking for a husband, you won’t get one with me.”

The warning rippled through her body while confusing her. “I’m not doing this for me,” she said, her voice strangled by the storm he brewed in her. “I’m doing it for you.”

His eyes were back on hers, pushing into her with such force. “You don’t even know your own humanity,” he observed with disdain. “Youwillwant a husband.”

“Maybe,” she whispered, her heart pounding in her ears. “But it is my sacrifice to make.”

The sudden growling in his throat and hot fingers gripping her jaw shot her pulse up. He forced her head back, looking down at her till she felt like the offering she’d just made of herself. “This is not another man’s body,” he whispered, terrifyingly close now. “It’s mine. I merely chose to give it to Kaphas.”

Her breath sputtered as she caught a glimpse of pain in his gaze. What had happened? Was it the woman that belonged to Kaphas? Did she once belong to him? Is this why he wouldn’t be a husband? Had he bonded to her the way their program required? She remembered he was an exception to many of those things. “Why did you give your body to Kaphas?” she dared, using all of her gifts to compel the truth from him while the mere inches between their mouths became electrified.

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