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One of his fingers prodded me too sharply, and I gasped in pain. “You didn’t tell me he was in your dreams. ”
Ignoring the obvious jealousy in his voice, I powered on, the ache of his touch still radiating over my collarbone. “As it turns out, I might have a little of his blood in me after all. ”
I thought he might choke me, his hands clenched so hard.
“What does that mean?”
“In biblical terms?” Maybe not the best word choice since getting biblical was a euphemism for sex he was probably familiar with. “I don’t mean like that,” I quickly added.
“Secret, just tell me what you’re talking about. ”
“Sig begat Theo. ” I held up one finger then lifted a second. “Theo begat Sutherland. ” Raising a third and final finger, I concluded, “Sutherland begat Secret. ” Letting my hand drop, I angled my head back to look up at him. “Get it?”
“Let me get this straight…you and Sig are related. ”
“Not related. We share a bloodline. ”
“Which is literally the definition of being related. ”
“Okay, maybe, but we’re not related the way Sutherland and I are. Or the way Mercy and I are. ”
“But still related. ” He looked downright gleeful.
I propped myself up on one elbow and stared at him. “You seem awfully happy about this. ”
“You have no idea. ” He leaned in and planted a kiss on my lips. It was brief, not passionate, and when he pulled back, he was still beaming like a Cheshire cat. “This is great news. ”
“I’ve been lied to about my entire lineage, and that’s a positive thing?”
“Not for you, maybe. But for me. ”
I scrunched my face up, getting into a cross-legged position and sitting so I faced him. When I figured out what he was giddy about, my gut response was to slap him, but I held back. “Oh God, Holden. Are you seriously grinning like an idiot because you think this takes Sig out of the running for a place in my bed?”
“Yes,” he replied without hesitation. I reconsidered my restraint and smacked him hard upside the head, but it didn’t rattle his smile.
“Sig has never been in my bed. ”
“You’ve been in bed with Sig. ”
“Ugh, that’s a gross use of semantics. ” Since I couldn’t say I’ve never slept with him, I added, “I’ve never had sex with Sig. ”
“Doesn’t mean he wasn’t trying. ”
“You mean like you were trying?”
“I tried for seven years. I got there eventually. ” He winked, like I’d find it charming.
“You’re lucky I love you, you stupid pervert. ” I whacked him in the arm. “But you had nothing to worry about with Sig. ”
“Sig gets what he wants. He wanted you. ”
“Did it ever occur to you I didn’t want to be with him?”
“No. I’ve met him. I know him. At some point you would have wanted to be with him. ”
I didn’t deny it outright because there’d been a time when I had wondered what it would be like to be with the Tribunal Leader. He did have an undeniable appeal to him. But above and beyond any attraction was my deep-seated terror of him. Whether or not we were related, my reasons for not sleeping with him existed long before. Sex was about trust, and though I trusted Sig as a leader, I wouldn’t leave my throat exposed to him in a dark alley.
And if I wouldn’t expose my throat, I sure as hell wouldn’t hike my skirt up for him.
