His knees gave out without warning. The table slipped from his grasp.
“Drake!” Violet cried.
He reached for her on instinct, fingers closing around her arm as he buckled. She staggered but held, steering him back toward the cot as he collapsed onto the mattress. Reaper surged forward, but she waved him off, aiding him as he slumped against the mattress.
“I told you,” she glared at him, “you are not fine.”
“I’m...” The protest died as merciless darkness surged.
“Get him onto the bed,” Reaper ordered. “Now.”
“He is on the bed,” his little flame snapped back.
His? How had such a thought even formed? He crushed it at once.
“I mean lay him down,” his brother groused.
“Drake?” Violet called softly.
His grip on her tightened. “Fine.”
All went black.
Chapter Fifteen
Quite the enemyyou have courted.
Reaper’s words turned over and over in her head as she stared at the small room she’d been given at the Furys’ tavern. The only furniture being a bed, with bedding, of course, a desk, and a chair. Supremely spare. No more than a person required. Strikingly lonely. Not that she could judge. Her life at the moment was just as bare. But she had her flowers, and flowers brightened a space like nothing else.
She sighed, falling back onto the bed.
A bath had been provided, an unexpected courtesy from men like these brothers. They had even prepared it themselves, hauling it to her chamber and away again once she was done. Of herprotectorshe had heard nothing since their arrival. He was likely still unconscious.
Would he be all right?
What if he did not wake at all?
Do not even think such a thing, Vi.
Besides, that man’s nature might well have been that of a weed. If he had not died in the dungeon under her care, he was hardly likely to do so under the care of his brothers. Speaking of brothers, what on earth had happened between her brother and Drake that caused such a vicious attack? Because that was what it had been. Coordinated. Not opportunistic. Someone hadknown Drake Fury’s plans, and her brother had planned this attack accordingly with his particular flavor of cruelty.
But then, she probably would do well not to presume too far. For all she knew, her brother might be complicit rather than the cause. Be that as it may, he bore his share of this night. The percentage of his involvement, however... that was what bothered her. Also, the face of the man who had attempted to kill Drake.
Urgh.
Despite all these worries, she could not put the man himself from her mind. What they had done in his dungeon. Unabashedly, unashamedly taken pleasure from each other. What had that moment even been? They had coupled, but hadn’t coupled? They’d found release but still had their clothes on?
Violet was no prude. She understood these things well enough, had overheard and learned plenty between balls, her brother, and the books in the library. She’d envied these brothers their devotion. Yearned for something similar. Had that been what she’d been missing? Not in terms of siblings. That she could never possess.
A husband, perhaps?
No, no. After being engaged to a contemptible coxcomb, cut from the same cloth as her brother, she’d rather not steer in that direction. The permanence of such a union.
A friend?
Not quite. She wanted something more intimate than mere friendship.
A lover, then?
