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“I’m a changed man. I make deals now, and I’m a man of my word.”
My heart stutters. I’m too late—the deal is sealed, unbreakable.
“Yes,” Anders nods, watching me carefully. “That means you get to taste it, guzzle down your revenge.” He brings the ax to his lips and presses a kiss to the sharpest edge of the blade.
Anders is the most unhinged ruler; I’ve seen and heard about what he does to bodies. He likes to use old Norse torture methods. I knew working with him was a risk, cousin or not; the man is not just insane, he’s feral, but I wanted Nelson so I gambled on it.
“I canceled the deal with Alister this morning,” I declare, but my voice is weak.
Anders finally pushes off the wall and strides further into my kitchen, not bothering to look back at Torben, because Torben knows better than to shift. If Anders told him to sit there, he’s smart enough to obey.
“I’m going to pretend”—he gives a long pause—“you did not just say that. There is a car outside.” Anders’s cruel smirk grows. “Nelson is in it. Congratulations. A deal was made. I got what I wanted; you get revenge.”
My eyes dart to the window, but from my kitchen I can’t see the driveway. I’d ask how he got past my security, but he’s a ruler in The Rites. Nothing is off-limits to him. I just hope he didn’t kill them all.
“Can I stay and watch?” Anders asks with keen interest. He floats around the kitchen, running his ax along the surfaces like it’s a plague of sickness he’s happy to spread.
Torben’s eyes bore into me, his worry and fear so raw I feel myself blanch beneath the weight.
Anders whistles, stopping at my cabinet to press his ax into the wood. I watch, helpless, as he carves his name. Pressure builds behind my eyes, threatening to burst.
“Where is the girl?” he asks, as he carves out a serif letter A.
“I need to talk.”
He shakes his head and keeps whistling; now he’s on the third letter. “I give you Nelson,” he says on a firm exhale. “You give me Alister’s daughter. Deal done.” He slips his ax into the belt at his side, stands back, and admires his work on my cabinet.
“You’re going to bring Rylan to Alister?” Torben asks, his voice tense.
Anders spins around, narrowing his eyes. “Don’t insult me with that tone. I’m not going to skin her on the plane.”
“She doesn’t like planes,” I blurt out. “You can’t take her.” I lick my lips, needing water, needing to touch Rylan and get her to safety.
You did this to her!
I fucking know! I wanted to stop it!
“Excuse me?” Anders spins, pinning me with a confused yet sharp glare.
“She has a fear of flying,” I clarify.
“I’m good with knots. I’ll tie her down and explain the situation.”
I move, ready to attack, but Torben stands and shouts, “Steffen!” It’s not the risk of hitting Anders that stops me; it’s what he says next: “Think of Rylan.”
Her name yanks me back like a leash around my throat. Now Anders holds the other end.
He looks from me, to Torben, back and forth. “You fucking idiot. I should castrate you,” he mutters as he spits under his breath.
My cock just lost an inch. Anders would. He might.
Anders stands between Torben and me, looking down at my kitchen island. He grabs his ax, and raising it, he holds it high, his hand shaking. He brings it down, relishing slicing the air in half and stealing the oxygen from the room.
“Don’t fucking tell me you fell for Alister’s daughter,” Anders grunts. He looks at Torben, whose silence confirms it.
Years ago Anders would have had no reaction to this. But he’s tasted love, knows its effects. He knows what I will do. If Alister and I keep fighting, it puts BANKS Corp at risk.
“My hands are tied, Steffen.” He taps his ax against the island.
