Page 83 of The Shape of my Scar
Maro brought up the rear.
He didn’t enter so much as fill the space.
He was thicker than the rest. Swarthy skin inked in swirls and runes and lines of fury. His eyes were obsidian and constantly scanning his surroundings. His stare dragged over her face, lingered. When he laid eyes on her, his eyes widened and he ran an unsteady hand over his shorn hair.
“Out of the way you, ya daft whazzack,” came an annoyed voice from behind him. And then came Lirian—tall and lean, trailing a whisper of quiet power. Pale blue eyes, sharp and unreadable beneath his half-Japanese, half-Scottish features. His smile was unsettling.
They all looked at her like she was the last piece of a puzzle they’d been turning in their hands for years. Just as she examined them and compared the reality to what she had played out a thousand times in her mind.
Zel leaned forward. “You look well.”
“She looks fragile,” Maro muttered, stepping too close. Before she could stop him, his hand came forward, fingers surprisingly gentle as he tilted her chin up like a soldier inspecting a weapon. “Smaller than I thought.”
Faolan bristled, pulling back slightly. “And you’re bigger than I imagined. Don’t any of you have any respect for personal space?”
Zel and Lirian exchanged a surprised glance and a guffaw of uncertainty
Maro was lingering—he never lingered…or touched.
Maro hated touching or being touched. He didn’t even let women brush against him. His boundaries were reinforced with brick. And Thane? Well, he was the same…unless sex was involved.
“That’s what’s weird,” Lirian muttered to Zel under his breath, amused. “Thane’s the same way. Won’t hug, not very cuddly. But he’ll fuck like its takeout—fast, hot, and instantly forgotten.”
Faolan turned to him slowly.
Her eyes were arctic ice.
Zel let out a low whistle and turned away, already shaking his head. Lirian tried to hide a grin.
Thane’s voice came low and hard, as if he had swallowed a mouthful of rocks. “Shut up.”
There was no humour in it. At all.
Zel bit his lip, trying not to laugh. “There it is.”
Lirian chuckled. “How long did you think you’d last, mate?”
Maro grunted. “Told you. If she made it out alive, he’d turn into a rabid wolf.”
“Wasn’t wrong,” Zel replied.
Thane didn’t take his eyes off Lirian. “I said, shut up.”
But Faolan wasn’t looking at Lirian anymore.
She was still looking at Thane.
Because whatever they’d just joked about, she’d heard the truth beneath it. That he’d treated sex like a transaction. That she’d once been that—fast, hot, and forgettable.
Her anger ebbed when she noticed the panic waft behind his eyes.
The moment he realised who she was, everything in him had shifted.
He hadn’t touched her like that since.
Not without thought. Not without treating her like a priceless gift he didn’t deserve.
He hadn’t tried to take.
