Page 76 of Made in Malice

“Doubtful,” she replies dismissively. “Besides, I’m not sticking around here and letting them try to put me in some archaic arranged marriage.”

“We would never allow that to happen, especially if you’re working with us.”

“How could you stop it?” She allows me to hear her doubt.

“He’s next in line to lead the founders,” Nox tells her, but it’s not really an answer.

“They are trying to keep you in the dark. How would you know that the man they introduced you to was already hand-picked to be your husband? I’m sure he would be kind and charming at first.” My lamb makes a face of disgust at my words. “He could have swept you off your feet, and you would have been none the wiser that they were all using you, but now you know.”

“I would have known,” she argues lamely. “Is this why she said it was dangerous?” She spins away from me and begins pacing again.

“Who said it was dangerous?” I rise slowly, as if something could be threatening her now.

She spins to look at me, searching my face for a long moment before she finally says, “There was a woman. She approached me in the parking lot one night after work and said some things.”

Nox proves he’s just as invested in her response when he asks, “What did she say?”

“That my mom left and stayed away because it was dangerous here. What did she mean?” She bounces her eyes between me and my brother.

“Did she say anything else?” I question, needing more to go on.

“Not really. She ran away when someone came out of the bar, like she didn’t want to be seen. I was going to wait for her tonight, but…” She leaves the rest hanging.

“What did she look like? Did she tell you her name?” Nox prompts.

“No, and I don’t know, maybe fortyish with brown hair down to her shoulders. I couldn’t see her eye color because it was too dark. She had a long, flowy skirt on.”

“So pretty much anyone on the mainland,” I deadpan.

“Excuse me for not getting her identification before speaking to her,” she snaps.

I step into her space, and she holds her ground. “I’m starting to see a pattern here, lamb, and I don’t fucking like it. You allowed someone to put their hands on you at least twice that I know of, then you put yourself in more possible danger by speaking to this stranger in a dark fucking parking lot behind a shithole bar.”

“I didn’t allow anything. I took care of myself, if you remember correctly.”

“Then why was your arm all scratched up and bruised?”

“Why do you care?” She raises her voice and lifts up on her toes, getting closer to my face.

“I already told you. No one touches what’s mine,” I grit out so I don’t bend down and bite her fucking lip to mark her.

“I’m not your anything.” Her eyes are narrowed like little razors to match her tongue.

“Wrong, lamb, you are ours.” I smile down at her, but it’s not in kindness.

“You need your head examined.”

“Is that an offer?” I reach for my belt.

“Not that one, you pervert.”

“Oh, lamb, you have no idea.”

She swallows roughly at my words but doesn’t seem to have a comeback for that one.

“I’ll figure out who was in the library and rip their fucking hands off, then I’ll find this woman and learn what she knows.”

“I don’t need your help.” She tries to turn away from me, but I catch her upper arm, mindful of my grip.

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