Page 35 of Pucked Around and Found Out

I begin to tremble without meaning to. Carnage squeezes my hand.

“Head up, queen.” His voice is low, steady, anchoring. “You got this. I'm right here with you. Nothing will ever touch you as long as I'm at your side.”

His reassurance bolsters my strength, but facing Xaden is going to be one of the hardest things I've ever done.

Talking to him on the phone is easy, I don't have to look into those devastating gray eyes. But face to face? That's a whole other level of misery.

I take a second to center myself, blocking out all the noise around me and focusing on my breathing.

You have the strength of a lioness.

A smile tugs at the corner of my mouth as I hear Emery's voice in my head—warm, encouraging, eternal.

The smile falls when I register the sound of guns cocking.

I blink my eyes open slowly and take in the sight of armed men standing before us, weapons aimed at each of us. We're outnumbered in this setting. I don't need to scan their faces to know he isn't among them.

Suddenly I feel it, the hairs on the back of my neck rise, my stomach swoops, and my skin prickles with awareness.

I feel his aura before I even see him.

Xaden stalks toward us with a swagger only he can pull off. Shadows still cling to him like armor, like they're part of his DNA.

The sight of him steals my breath.

His black hair is a tousled mess like he's been running his hands through it in frustration. His gray eyes are alight with fury and locked directly onto me with an intensity that makes my knees weak.

He doesn't dress for wealth or appearance. He's wearing his Stormsend Ravens hoodie and dark wash jeans, plain clothes that do nothing to hide the power simmering beneath the surface.

He may dress like a regular person, but he's anything but regular.

He's an enigma.

An idea people think about but never have the wit or courage to pursue. He doesn't need designer clothes or expensive watches to command attention, it's natural for him.

Xaden doesn't even glance at his men kneeling in the dirt. He pushes past them without acknowledgment.

I fight not to tense. Carnage's grip on my hand tightens.

I brace for him to come straight to me but he shocks me when he stops in front of Carnage instead.

Then, in one swift movement so fast I barely register it, he pulls a gun from his waistband and presses the barrel directly into my friend's chest.

I open my mouth to scream—to say anything—but Carnage tightens his hold on my hand, silencing me.

Alex and the others say nothing. They stand still and unmoving, acting like being held at gunpoint is a normal occurrence.

From their reactions, I'm starting to think it is.

I look between Xaden and Carnage. Neither has uttered a word, but the way they're staring at each other suggests a silent conversation is transpiring, one no one else is privy to.

“The location of her brother is the price,” Xaden says in a tone that chills me to the bone.

Carnage continues to stare at him for a long moment, making me think he isn't going to answer.

“That information isn't mine to give.”

“Yet you stand here holding her hand like you're her protector.” The anger in Xaden's icy tone is palpable.