Page 208 of Lethal King

My eyes dart back and forth as I realize there’s nowhere to go.

“You fucked up,” I say, biting my tongue. “Now, every Kilpatrick soldier on the east coast will be after us.”

I don’t dare utter the real reason I’m so upset.

My chest feels hollow as I remember the relief in Rian’s ocean blue eyes when I absolved him of his sins.

He wasn’t wrong about those union fucks. But now his past will come back to haunt him… and possibly destroy him.

And that’s partly my fault.

“That works too,” Tytus responds. “We’ll be ready for them.”

His flippancy is starting to get on my nerves, even though I know it shouldn’t—in a sane world, I would be happy to make Rian Kilpatrick suffer.

But I’ve lost my damn mind.

“That’s right,” Leander confirms. “All we have to do is tie the knot, and the army I’ve worked so hard to gather becomes yours too. Then we can take on those Irish bastards in a real war. No more pussy-footing around this conflict.”

“What do you know about war?” I grumble, fingers curling into a fist.

“Not much. Not yet,” Leander admits. “But I can’t wait to find out all about it. And I’m even more thrilled to share the experience with you.”

“You maniac,” I whisper through gritted teeth.

The insult isn’t meant to be loud enough for Leander’s ears. But he seems to hear it anyways.

“Sounds like we were made for each other, then,” he grins, his white teeth sparkling against the moonlight.

I want to punch him square in the nose. But before I can even take a step forward, I feel Drago’s cold hand on my shoulder.

“Easy there,” he soothes me, his raspy voice so low it’s barely audible. “Remember what we talked about.”

I’m oddly eased by his reminder.

Leander is going to pay. I just have to be patient.

Still, it’s hard to trust anyone right now.

“I promise I won’t be so bad,” Leander taunts, almost like he’s trying to provoke me. “As long as you’re an obedient little wife, I’ll be a loyal husband.”

Fucking hell.

No army is worth this.

… But the promise of ridding a man like Leander from my life is just enough to keep me from lashing out.

Unfurling my fists, I brush the back of my hand against the thigh holster hidden under my dress. We had to pass through a metal detector to get in here, and Leander’s terms stipulated that no weapons were allowed.

But his men were lazy—or they were ordered not to molest me. Because I wasn’t searched.

If they had patted me down, they probably would have found the stone-carved knife Drago gave me. It’s as sharp as any steel and fits perfectly in my empty holster.

All I have to do is get close enough to stick it through Leander’s throat. Tytus and Drago will take care of the rest. How? I’m not sure, but I need to trust them.

I want to trust them.

“I’ll do whatever it takes to bring the Kilpatricks to their knees,” I say, forcing back my sneer.