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I nod my head in agreement. “She’s right.”

Lawson’s knuckles whiten as his grip on my thigh tightens, a silent, firm protest against my friend’s words. The air hums with tension, as he keeps his magnetic gaze fixed on me. “I disagree. I’ve seen you grow in confidence over the last few days. You’re learning to let go of the restrictions that have been placed on you in the past, and have been embracing doing the things you want, the things that make you happy, rather than following the expectations of others.

“I know you can do this. I want you to walk into that club, believing you’re one of the most beautiful girls in the entire room, and that confidence alone will draw his attention. You’re going to pull on the girl you would have been if the Order had not influenced your entire life.”

As I process his words, I can’t deny there’s a certain appeal to what he’s saying. I’ve never really felt like me…more that I’m playing the role of the character I’m supposed to be. I’ve become so used to being that stranger, I’m not entirely sure who the real me is anymore.

“I’m not sure I know how to do that,” I admit to Lawson, keeping my voice low so that Bram and Wren don’t hear. I don’t want them to think I can’t do the assignment, even though I’m starting to worry I won’t be able to.

Lawson reaches up with his free hand and places it against my cheek, turning me until I’m facing him. He lightly brushes his thumb under my eye in an action so sweet it steals my breath away. His voice is low enough that only I can hear, and the deepness of it has my heart racing.

“I’ve watched you over the last few days, and you’ve slowly been escaping the confines that previously imprisoned you. You’ve been questioning how you should dress, how much makeup you should wear, and even whether you should keep your mouth closed when you really want to argue back.

“Hell, you’ve even sworn a few times. I know deep inside there’s a girl who wants to scream and shout, and swear whenever she wants. You want to live the life you choose, not what someone else chooses for you.”

His words capture every part of me, because I know he’s right. I want more, I’ve just never had the opportunity before. As he softly tucks a strand of hair behind my ear, his wicked smile returns.

“And don’t even get me started on the sex. You’re finally admitting you have fantasies, and that it’s perfectly fucking normal to want to explore them. Having a healthy sex life isn’t a bad thing, and neither is being my little whore.

“I want you to pull on all of that when you walk into that club. I want everyone in there to look at you and want you—even though it will make me fucking murderous. But as long as you remember that nobody touches you except me, I’ll keep my knife in my pocket. Can you do that?”

Even though I’ve processed everything he just said, and I’m struggling to hold back the feelings Lawson brings to the forefront just by believing in me, I can’t stop the random words from blurting out. “You have a knife?”

He chuckles as he grins at me. “Sweetheart, I always have a weapon on me. Never forget, I’m the most dangerous person in any room.”

He’s not bloody kidding, but I mean it for a completely different reason. For me in particular, he’s dangerous because he calls to a side of me that my father buried a long time ago. He wants me to break free from my gilded cage, but more than that, he makes me want to be me, and that’s really risky.

“I can do this,” I tell him, leaning into his touch as he continues to stroke my face.

My eyes, as if they have a mind of their own, are drawn to the curve of his lips. The tip of his tongue slips out to slide along his lower lip, dampening it as he magnetically draws me in. The quiet hum of my own pulse thumps in my ears as we close the distance, and the urge to feel his lips against mine is overwhelming.

He’s definitely looking at my lips too, and my heart is thumping with such speed that I’m surprised he can’t hear the frantic rhythm. His breath flutters against my cheek as he moves closer just the smallest amount, and I hold my breath in anticipation.

The tension and silence in the car is so thick, it’s almost suffocating, and all I can think about is kissing him. His gentle touch against my cheek is like a spark, igniting a shiver that traces its way down my spine as I close the distance between us, my breath catching in my throat.

Should I be the one to make the first move?

Then, out of nowhere, Lawson lets out a shuddered breath, drops his hand from my cheek and backs away from me, blinking rapidly like he’s coming out of the same trance I was in. He’s breathing a little heavier, and I’m sure my chest is rising and falling just as rapidly, but now I have a sinking feeling in my stomach from the rejection.

He’s had sex with me in every way imaginable, so why won’t he kiss me?

I’ve never had the guts to ask him about it, as I don’t want to seem needy and desperate. Besides, I’m pretty sure he sees kissing as too intimate. After all, it’s not like he has feelings for me. I’m just his Prize—his to use for anything sex-related over the next year, but that doesn’t include hearts, flowers, or kisses.

Maybe it’s a good thing he won’t kiss me, as I can already feel myself getting in deeper than I should. This is the last boundary we shouldn’t cross, so I can keep some of my dignity for when this is all over and he moves onto the Order Wife I’m sure his family is eyeing up for him as we speak.

Why does it hurt so much to think of Lawson marrying someone else? Even if we break all the rules and catch feelings—which I need to make sure doesn’t happen—it sure as shit doesn’t change the fact I can never be an Order Wife. I’m tainted now, and my lack of purity means that’s not in my future, and I hadn’t realised how much that bothered me until just now.

I push those quite frankly strange and confusing thoughts out of my mind, knowing I need to concentrate on the job I’m about to do. I can’t have Lawson messing with my head if I’m going to succeed at this.

“You can do this,” Lawson says, repeating what I just told him before everything got a little more confusing. We both choose to ignore the way his voice trembles slightly, as if he’s as thrown off-kilter by all of this as I am.

I draw in a ragged breath in an attempt to steel my nerves, projecting my voice louder this time so both Bram and Wren can hear. “So, you’re hoping I will draw his attention, then what?”

Bram looks at me through the rearview mirror, a cheeky smile on his face. “Then both of you are going to flirt with him until he tells you what we want to hear.”

Lawson quickly adds, “But we don’t want you to lead the conversation. As far as he knows, you two know nothing at all about the Obsidian Order, or what a Crow Pledge is. We need him to brag to you willingly, so he can’t argue that you led him on or trapped him.”

Wren clears her throat. “Won’t he know Harper is your Prize? I mean, from what I’ve heard, you’re a pretty important member of the Crows, so I find it hard to believe he won’t know who she is. Also, weren’t all the Pledges at the Gifting Ceremony?”