Page 176 of A Bond in Blood

He turned to me, his eyes burning with an emotion I could not place.

“Why does it matter, Brenna? What good will it do you if I admitted to what you’ve come to believe?”

“It would help me understand the conflict in my heart,” I whispered.

I waited for his response and yelped when he stood suddenly, heading right for the water. I held my breath while I watchedhim sink into the red-painted surface. His hair floated for a moment before he dunked his head under.

I sat, shaking, waiting for him to lift for air. Yet he didn’t and I rose to my feet, moving across the sand.

When my body was fully enveloped by the frigid liquid, he lifted with his shadows masking his features.

“What happened to your mask?” I asked, trying to keep my teeth from chattering from the cold.

His smile was wicked.

“It’s white, Brenna, and made of fabric. I would be breaking my own rule if I did not mask myself.”

“You’re a conundrum,” I sighed.

I swam away from him, directing my body back to the shore, but his hand grasped one wrist.

“Tell me one thing that has made you believe I am not the cruel being you have seen.” His voice was a whisper, almost a plea.

I stared into his shadow-masked green eyes. The words were right on my tongue, but they would not come out.

“You’re hesitating,” he sneered.

“You’re not holding me painfully,” I replied.

He blinked. “What?”

I glanced at the water, unable to see his hand wrapped around my wrist under the surface.

“You haven’t touched me cruelly in months, Ulrich. Since the day we showed each other our ink for the first time. Have you grabbed me? Yes, constantly.”

He grinned and I rolled my eyes.

“But you have not grabbed me cruelly. You haven’t marked my body. Youheardme.”

“You’re wrong,” he replied.

“No,” I countered.

His gaze was on fire when he smiled back at me. “The night of yourpunishment. I attacked you.”

My body stiffened at the memory. “I had made a mistake,” I whispered. “You caught me in my betrayal.”

“I called you a whore.” He grinned. “Multiple times.”

“I called myself one first. To Bjorn,” I replied, biting the inside of my cheek to prevent my own outburst of irritation.

His eyes squinted for a moment before he spoke again.

“I think you will come to regret your observations,” he muttered.

I pulled myself toward him, allowing my body to press against his.

“Why?” I asked, needing to understand his hesitancy.

---