Page 87 of Born for Lace

“I’m so glad you’re asking questions, though,” Tomar pushes forward. “This is good. We can tell you whatever you need, Dahlia. Let’s get settled for the night first...” Hesmilesat her, and my forehead tightens. “It hurts to see the distrust in your eyes.” But then he lifts his hand to her cheek, runs his knuckles down the soft curve, and the control in my head pops.

I. Don’t. Fucking. Like. It!

I step into his heels, my much larger body looming over his back. My presence burns him with a warning so deeply volatile I don’t know what I’ll do if he doesn’t take his fucking hand off her fucking cheek. Before I can grapple my possessive rage, I grab his hand and pull it from her face. “No.”

That’s all I say.

Her breath catches.

Tomar stares at our hands for a long time, betrayal drawing his brows in. His expression curls into something deeply disappointed.

“Dahlia,” he says, frowning, “go pick a room for the night?—”

“Don’t tell her what to do.” I squeeze his hand in mine, capable of crushing the bones inside.

“Lagos…” he stammers. “Fuck, brother, what are you doing?”

“You’re lucky I don’t break it,” I snarl, tugging him around by his hand, holding it up like he is a petulant child I am ready to flog for misbehaving. “Do you have her knickers?”

She gasps.

The Shadow baby cries.

“What?” He falters, guilty eyes shift between us. “Her what?”

He does.

He fucking took her knickers.

“No, of course not,” he snaps.

I glare down at him as his shame hides inside feigned shock.

Fury builds and builds within me. I’ve ignored it enough, allowed enough between them. No more. It ends now.

“Don’t touch her.” I hardly recognise my voice, it’s too vulnerable, too angsty, feelings that have been shackled, coming through with no experience or control. “She is mine.” I cut my attention to my little flower, frightening her with misdirected fury. “The room on the right is yours.”

She doesn’t move.

“Go. Now,” I bark, and she takes off down the corridor with her pack on one shoulder and the babe at her chest.

Like a chunk of burning wood, I drop Tomar’s hand and storm into the room opposite hers, slamming the door to protect Tomar from the insanity rippling through me.

Can’t be trusted.

Kill him.

Take the girl.

My brain is on fire.

My heart is throttling.

Muscles contracting.

I care— I care— I want.

Humanity rears up.

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