Page 228 of Lessons in Cruelty

As he turns away to pick up the donation box, I step forward and snatch his wrist. There’s a moment where he resists, where we’re in a stalemate as he tries to break free, where I refuse to let him.

And then his face goes blank, and his muscles relax, like he knows playing dead gets him out of this situation a lot faster than fighting could.

I twist his arm, turning it to the light, studying the marks on his skin. He starts when I raise my other hand, but doesn’t stop me running my thumb over the bite marks.

“Who did this?”

They’re not fresh, but they were deep. Passionate.

It’s not the first time I’ve seen injuries on him. I assume he’s on the hockey or football team.

But this?

Whoever bit him wanted to leave their mark on his smooth, tanned flesh.

Claiming him? Or warning him?

An image of Haven’s bruised throat flashes into my mind, and it all slots into place.

I had my suspicions until she so vehemently informed me she wasn’t a victim. I assumed it was pride at the time. Riversider loyalty.

But maybe she truly isn’t the victim I see her as.

Maybe she gives as good as she gets.

Kai recognizes the change in me. I can see it in the way his pretty green eyes hood with unease.

“How long have you known Haven Lee?”

The poor boy tries so hard not to let me in, but his face gives him away instantly. The flash of surprise, then the anger.

He stares at me with wide eyes, jaw ticking, nostrils flaring.

She marked him as I marked her. We’re both claiming the same territory.

Maybe that’s not a problem.

Maybe that’s the solution.

There’s no point tormenting him about it. But when have I ever seen a bruise and not pressed it?

“Looks like she put up quite a fight,” I say in a thick voice. “Did she win?”

Kai seems complacent with silence, but I’m not. I press down on that wound so hard that he jerks his arm out of my grip.

“No,” he grates out, his arm curling against his chest. “I did.”

I smile at him. “That’s what she wants you to think.”

“Fuck off,” he snaps, then drops his gaze like he’s fighting the urge to apologize.

“I can help with that, you know.” I reach for him, but he backs up so quickly he almost stumbles.

“The fuck you on about?”

“Getting inside Haven’s head.”

He scoffs. “What, already sick of getting in her pants?”