Page 75 of The Blood that Binds Us

That’s it. I slam my palms against his chest, desperate to feel all that bare skin, and the second I reach for him, he whirls us around, pinning me between him and the tree. His arms form a prison on either side of me, and he rolls his bottom lip between his teeth as a low growl rumbles from his chest. And as quickly as he spun us around, he drops an arm to my lower back and arches me towards him, dipping his head to skim his lips across my chest.

“What are we doing? I hate you. You hate me,” I choke through bated breath.

“Does it feel like I hate you?” He grinds his hips against mine, and it takes every ounce of self-control I have left to keep my eyes front and center, and not spiraling to the back of my head. Because pressed against my most sensitive place, I feeljusthow much he craves me.

He laughs quietly between my breasts, only the thin black silk of my nightgown separating them from his mouth. “Fucking starlight.”

This time, embarrassment doesn’t rush to my cheeks. Only the warm pang of desire courses through me and settles low in my stomach.

“Sin. Stop.” Ineedhim to stop. Because if his mouth drifts an inch to the side, or his hand drops any lower, I’m going to lose myself to him completely.

He smiles against my chest as if he knew I would stop him, then raises his lips to my jaw for a fleeting second before taking a step away from me and dropping his arms.

“See—I said you have more control than you give yourself credit for.”

Bastard.

I give him a knowing smirk and adjust the ties of my nightgown. “Careful, Blackheart. I will rip out every last one of their hearts myself if I have to, including yours. And with that kind of power, I could bring armies to their knees.”

“Then it’s in your best interest to feast on my heart last, love.”

“And why is that?”

“I fight much better on my feet. And if you bring me to my knees before you, little witch, I dare say you’ll be in no mind to let me off them.”

I can’t stop the stupid grin from betraying my reaction to his words. “Goodnight, Your Grace.” Clutching my robe closed, I turn my back to him and head for the castle.

“Oh, and starlight,” he calls after me.Please don’t let this be my new nickname.“Try to keep your moaning down when you pleasure yourself tonight, dearest. I need my beauty sleep.”

Without turning around, I flash him a vulgar gesture above my head. When I’m out of the woods, I swear I still hear his dark chuckle on the wind.

“How little do you think of me, honestly? You expect me to sit back and kick my feet up while I watch themenhead into battle?” Ileana asks, slamming her palms onto the rectangular table in the center of the war room.

“Not little at all, my Lady,” Cassius placates. “But think of what you represent to Aegidale. You were a Legion prisoner, and now you command the greatest army in the realm. You are a token of strength, resilience. If you go and get yourself offed by the very people that imprisoned you, think of the devastating message that would send to your people.”

Yourpeople. I suppose they are her people now.

Ileana is mundane, but she more than makes up for what she lacks in magical ability with sheer tenacity. I can’t fathom a single person having more of a reason to want to witness Legion bleed for their crimes than the Black Hand herself. And I’ll be damned if any of these arrogant fools who have never had to endure the perversions of men try to take that from her.

“How do men even see from so high up on that pedestal that they place themselves upon? It would be an affront to prevent the Black Hand from defending her own people,” I argue to the council.

I’ve hardly spoken since we’ve gathered this morning to discuss strategy. Scouts reported sightings of Legion troops laying low in the valley outside Baregrove. It won’t be long now before they stampede into Blackreach expecting to lay siege to the castle, only to meet the Black Art’s armyoutsidethe keep for the first time.

“Remind me again, Your Grace, how you know your friend?” Sterling drawls, laying the weight of his stare on me.

I had wondered if I would feel guilty being in the same room as Bennett’s father—shame at not confessing the real cause of his son’s death—but I feel nothing. Except maybe regret that I wasn’t the last thing Bennett saw before he choked on his own bubbling blood spilling from his mouth as I wedged my blade deep in his gut.

“Wren has lost friends to Legion’s scintillating recruitment tactics,” Sin answers smoothly, waving a hand as if to dismiss the brunt of my insult. “She is advanced with her magic. She’ll make a great asset,” he adds casually.

Sterling scratches the side of his face with one long finger. “I see. You must have had some excellent mentors along the way, Miss—?”

“Just Wren.” I dropped my surname the same day my parents tossed me from their lives like I was nothing more than spoiled meat. “And indeed, my Lord. I have been most fortunate.” I offer him a smile, hoping he doesn’t notice the clenched teeth behind it.

“I must agree with the mage though,” he continues, waving a hand towards Cassius. “I think it’d be outrageous to have the Black Hand on the battlefield.”

Dusaro mumbles an agreement from inside the steaming mug of tea he brought to his mouth. Aldred remains stoic as if he’s more focused on debating the tactical advantages and disadvantages in his own head than with those less experienced in the art of war than himself. Sin leans back in his chair making a tent with his fingertips as if the topic bores him altogether. Anika hasn’t uttered a word since the meeting began, and Ileana’s face is nothing short of furious.

“Sin will be fighting,” I challenge. “So surely it can’t be a matter of jeopardizing our assets, my Lord.”

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