Yes, he still wanted her.
The knock came sharp and sudden, and Drake’s head snapped around. Before he could bark an answer, the door shoved open, its hinges groaning in protest, candlelight spilling into the dungeon right before Deveraux stepped in, an unrepentant smirk on his face. A riot of red hair followed his brother, her chin lifted in unmistakable defiance. Her piercing blue eyes locked on him at once.
Drake shot to his feet so fast the chair scraped harshly across the floor. “What the devil are you doing?” he demanded fromDeveraux, cursing when Reaper, expression grim, appeared at Violet’s back. “Why the hell did you bringherhere?”
“Don’t ask me,” Reaper muttered. “This is all our new brother’s grand idea.”
“The girl has a right to know about all the dangers,” Deveraux remarked offhandedly. “Especially since this now concerns her.”
Drake’s gaze never left Violet. Could not. His gut tightened so viciously he thought it might squeeze the breath from him altogether.
Those beautiful eyes held his gaze without flinching, not a trace of apology anywhere on her face. “I’m here because Iwantto be.”
The words were like a double-edged sword, yet he was a fool who could not discern which edge would demand the greater share of blood.
Behind him, the man laughed.
“Well, well, well.”
Chapter Eighteen
Violet stared atthe scowl on the man who had made love to her mere hours ago, the annoyance and fury in his voice cracking like a whip in the close stone chamber. Her gaze wrenched from his to pass over the room.
Another dungeon.
The third she had been brought to since becoming entangled with Drake Fury. The first had been barren, empty of anything but his threats. The second had been a secret stronghold of treasures, riches hoarded and guarded. This one was most decidedly the worst. The scent of blood and sweat filled its space. It coated the back of her throat, metallic and sour. This was not a place for display.
This was where matters of business were settled.
Where the family dealt with what could not be spoken of in the broad light of day. Her gaze returned to Drake and dropped to his bloody knuckles before settling on the man chained to the wall, slumped on the floor, his face a myriad of purple and bloody bruises.
The man’s grin directed solely at her.
He knew.
Coldness spread through her bones like sheets of ice. She had not mistaken his identity. On the contrary, the moment their eyes locked, more memories spun through her mind. Memoriesof this man and her brother in meetings at different times and spots in the house over the years.
And he now recognized her.
“Did he tell you who he works for?” Violet asked Drake, though her eyes remained on the bloody ruffian.
“Violet, you don’t belong here,” Drake said, almost in a scolding tone, yet not quite. “Reaper, get her the hell out of here.”
“Belong?” Violet glanced at Drake, then. “Where do I belong? Is that not for me to decide? If you do not wish me here, then tell your brothers to stand down and allow me to leave. If I don’t belong, don’t keep me where I don’t belong.” She ignored the tick in his jaw. She’d fallen for this man. Only now did the understanding take shape, dawning on her with startling clarity. She’d fallen for him...
A cold man.
A violent man.
A man who kept himself divided.
Right. Peace never lasts. To think she’d actually believed she understood him. She didn’t understand anything. Fighting as a sport and this... The blood on his knuckles, though the same detestable color, took on a different meaning.
Should I just tell him the truth?
Then he could toss her beside her brother’s cutthroat and be done with it. In the end, no matter what she built, it could all be taken from her by powerful men. Men such as her brother. Men such as Drake. If she told the truth right now, he’d surely seize her, wouldn’t he? She’d become a true prisoner.
What did you hope for, Vi?
