Page 31 of Rivals & Revenge

The lads sauntered into the kitchen, no doubt looking for their dinner, yet instead of coming to me, they both curled up at her feet, Zeus resting his massive head on her shoe.

I barked out a laugh. “Ok. You gotta tell me what that’s about.”

“What?” she asked.

Her face, the picture of wide-eyed innocence, would have probably convinced me under different circumstances. But I had owned these dogs for ten years and they had never reacted to anyone the way they did her.

“Spill.”

“I swear, I don’t know what you mean.”

My eyes flicked downward. “Man’s best friend indeed.”

She chuckled softly as she sipped on her tea, but didn’t offer anything further.

“There is something I wanted to talk to you about,” she started, her face set in hard lines as her gaze met mine. Not a trace of the wide-eyed girl from a moment ago remained.

“Shoot.”

A soft laugh escaped her. “Funny you should say that. I had Connor buy me some new pants and the materials to sew sheaths into them so I can carry my knives.”

“Why not use a tailor?” I asked, but I had a feeling I already knew the answer. Control.

“I tried that one time. Guy asked way too many questions. Ended up having to gut him and learned to do it myself.” She shrugged.

I nodded, along with her explanation. I had that issue in the beginning too. It was hard to find people who could do quality work and keep their mouths shut. It was a rare combo.

“Anyway.” she said, shaking her head to clear away the errant thoughts. “I appreciate the Walther. It’s beautiful. Hell, it fits my hand like it was made for me.”

“But you miss your own weapons.” I finished for her.

She nodded, offering me another small smile I greedily devoured.

“If we are going to take on the world, Rossdale—”

“Ahren.” I interrupted. “Please—Call me Ahren.”

Her eyes searched mine for a moment, her lip catching between her teeth, before she nodded and continued. “Ahren—I need my scout.”

A deep breath and I could see her steeling her spine, readying her armor for my attack—one that wouldn’t be coming. If anyone understood, it was me.

We were preparing for battle. Every warrior had one item they held for luck or superstition. Something that made them feel invincible. For her, it was her scout rifle.

For me, it was my Walther.

Chapter 19

TIERNEY

Creamy sauce dripped from the potato on my fork, pooling on the plate beneath. How the fuck did he pack so much flavor into such a simple dish? Hell, I watched him make it, and I still had no idea how he did it.

My eyes slid shut, a deep moan escaping me as I savored the bite. I wasn’t a foodie; food was just fuel—but I could get used to eating like this.

I opened my eyes to find Ross—Ahren’s eyes glued to my lips. His hungry gaze snapped to mine, and I fought the urge to look away.

Upstairs earlier—well, it’s not like I had a lot of experience in that area, but it felt, for a moment, like he wanted to kiss me. The whole idea was absurd on its face, and still the predatory glint in his eyes stirred something inside me. That tiny voice I never listened to that said, what if…

“We should talk,” he said quietly, spearing a piece of chicken and dragging it through the cream sauce before pushing it between his lips.

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