Page 95 of Pretty Savage: Defy

I blink. Is Silas Creed, notorious leader of The Jackals, giving me…relationship advice?

“What do you mean?” I ask.

“Take Carrson. The poor kid lives on control. It makes him feel powerful. Safe. Then you come along, and he can’t predict you, can’t command you, can’t stop wanting you. That’s the attraction.”

He tips back the drink and drains it in one swallow, which I’m fairly sure isn’t how port is supposed to work.

“Now you’re running around being stubborn and headstrong. Don’t give me that look. You are. You made a choice he couldn’t prevent, and it scares the hell out of him.”

“I suppose…” I say, turning that over in my mind.

“Evangeline was so sweet. Innocent, almost naïve. I loved that about her.” Silas takes another port, empties it with the same irreverence, and then licks his lips. “But it blinded her. She didn’t see the danger coming until it was too late.”

Voices drift from the kitchen. Silas glances toward them, but his body remains loose, the tray balanced easily in one hand. “Have you seen her yet, Laurel? Eyes of lavender.”

“No.” My mind is already returning to Carrson, worrying he won’t understand that I did it for him, at least partly. “I haven’t seen anyone like that.”

The tray dips half an inch. The glasses slide, heading for the edge. They almost fall, but Silas jerks it level at the last minute.

“Look harder.” His usual drawl disappears. I look up, startled, but his easy expression is already back in place, as much a mask as the one over his face.

“Now mosey along,” he says. “Go upstairs. I saw Carrson heading toward his bedroom. You two kiss and make up. Slip him some tongue. That usually helps.”

He laughs at the disgusted look I give him.

I turn to leave.

“Remember, Laurel.”

I look back.

“I’ll be watching you. Listening to every word you say.” His blue eyes gleam. “I always am.”

“You should leave, Silas,” I warn. “They’ll kill you if they find you here.”

“Aw, your concern warms my heart.” He presses one hand to his vest and grins. “Run along, tiger.”

I narrow my eyes, and my fingers curl. I don’t like hearing Carrson’s private name for me in Silas’s mouth, which is exactly why he does it.

His laughter follows me onto the back staircase as I hurry after Carrson.

Chapter twenty-four

Two Days Until Bonding

Laurel

Carrson stands shirtless in his room. I come to a halt at the sight of all that sculpted muscle. The vine and rose tattoo encircling his bicep shifts as he yanks his belt free of his tuxedo pants. The buckle clips the edge of the dresser before tumbling from his hand.

Normally, I’d go to him. Kiss the dark ink representing the sister he’s still searching for. Run my hands over the skin he’s taught me to treat like an extension of my own body.

Tonight, I stop inside the doorway.

I don’t know whether I’m allowed to touch him that way anymore.

Carrson doesn’t acknowledge me. He steps out of his formal pants, then bends to fasten a narrow leather sheath around the inside of his calf. He picks up a dagger from the dresser and slides the blade inside.

I want to ask whether he’s expecting a knife fight at a brothel, but his expression convinces me this isn’t the time for jokes. The weapon disappears under the jeans he pulls on next. He zips and buttons them without looking at me.