Page 42 of The Blood that Binds Us

Maybe it’s the alcohol in my system, or maybe it’s the unbridled rage of knowing they have my sister that compels my feet forward, but I take a step in their direction, crossing my arms over my chest. “Sorry, we don’t mingle with abductors and rapists here. The only way either of you are having any fun tonight is if both of you go fuck yourselves.” I squint my eyes in a smile that’s all teeth.

Sin is at my side instantly, his hand on my back again, and this time, his fingers curl around my waist, pinning me in place. He squeezes my side in warning, reminding me we both have parts to play tonight.

Marcus’s eyes drop to mine, his attention now wholly fixed on my altered face. And at this point, I don’t even care if the illusion magic fails. I’d gladly let him see my face before I rip his to shreds.

“I see the Rut’s affecting us all in stride this year,” he says, licking his bottom lip as he drags his gaze down my neck and over my feminine curves. I swear I hear a faint growl from Sin’s chest, but I tune him out, my attention solely on the Legion scum in front of me.

I slap my hand to my chest as I lean forward with laughter. “Or maybe I just don’t like you.”

Margalo squares her shoulders to mine, but a flicker of amusement flashes on the male’s face. He thinks I’m challenging him.

“Oh, I bet we can change that by morning,” Marcus says, his eyes dropping to my mouth for a moment before burning into my own again.

I feign a yawn as if the conversation now bores me. “I prefer to watch the stars without the company of pigs, thank you.”

“Spend the night with me, and I’ll have you seeing more than stars, honey.”

My hand flies out in front of me, my index finger pointed at his leather clad chest, but I don’t have time to spew my remark before Sin pushes me behind him, putting himself between me and Marcus.

“She’sclaimed,” Sin growls the word, and I swear the temperature around us drops a few degrees.

No oneclaimsme, but I can nearly feel the wrath emanating from the Black Art and decide to keep my mouth shut. Now is not the time to dispute him. Not in front of them.

Marcus takes a step towards him. Sin doesn’t give an inch, but his hand curls into a fist at his side. He won’t use magic here, not with his façade in place, but I don’t doubt his hands are any less dangerous. I crane my neck to see around Sin’s body. All trace of amusement has vanished from Marcus’s face, and Margalo fixes Sin with the permanent scowl on her face.

Marcus licks his lips then wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. “Why don’t we let the girl decide what she wants?”

“She is alady,and you will treat her as such. And I think she’s made it more than clear she’s not interested in—”

“A lady? Is that what we’re calling the whores now? I’ll let you in on a secret, bud. Whores don’t care who they’re choking on so long as there’s coin on the ta—”

Sin’s fist connects with his face, an audible crunch, and Marcus’s hand flies to cover his mouth and chin. When he lowers it, blood spritzes from his now crooked nose.

My mouth goes dry, desire blooming on my tongue, my eyes tracking the crimson rivulets dripping over his lips. I sink my feet into the ground, holding myself in place and biting back the urge to bury my teeth in Marcus’s now red-stained neck.

Sin wraps a bronzed hand around his throat, and Margalo tries inserting herself between them, shouting threats at Sin and pushing against him, but it’s useless. She might as well be chucking flower petals at Sin for all the harm she’s doing to him. The others around us crowd in farther, preparing to fight should any of their Legion friends be watching from the trees.

I watch as Sin’s grip tightens on his throat, almost lifting him off the ground, his next words laced with fury. “The only thing my lady will be choking on are your innards when I feed them to her.”

He lets go of Marcus and takes a few steps back, shaking the blood from the hand he hit him with. Marcus presses his hand to his nose and pulls it away, noting the blood now coating his fingertips. Margalo clings to her friend, trying to force him to look at her, but he shoves her out of the way as he unknowingly approaches the Black Art. Never taking his eyes off them, Sin reaches behind himself and pushes me farther back. But unlike how Marcus thrusted Margalo away from him to get her out of his path, Sin shoves me to put distance between myself and the fight about to commence.

Thunder claps around us.

Except… it’s not thunder. Eldridge, barreling through the crowd, tackles Marcus, taking them both to the ground. Margalo bares her teeth and pounds her small fists into Eldridge’s back, inciting the other shifters to join in. One restrains Margalo with ease, while a few others work to separate Eldridge and the Legion fuckhead.

Blood sprays onto the grass, painting the tips the color of murder, and I wet my lips in instinct. The glamour may alter my appearance, but I don’t know if it does anything to stop my faux blue irises from glowing as the sweet smell of their juices beckons for my darkness to come out and play.

Too focused on quelling the sudden thirst in my throat, I don’t see as Sin turns and returns to my side until his lips are brushing the top of my ear through my hair. “Time to go, little witch.”

The others are still struggling to pry Eldridge off Marcus, whose face now appears as if he devoured a rhubarb pie with his hands bound behind his back. Eldridge can hold his own with ease, but my eyes dart to the darkened woods in the distance. The same forest Zorina disappeared into.

“I can’t leave my sister. Not if there’s a chance there’s Legion soldiers out there.”

“There’s not. He only said that to preventthatfrom happening,” Sin nods towards the pummeling taking place behind me.

“You’re just saying that so I leave with y—Put. Me. Down.”

Sin sweeps my legs out from under me and heaves me over his shoulder as if I was no more than a bag of flour.

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