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Peaches glances up at me. I growl at her, urging her not to make a fuss, not to let on that I’m trying to protect her.
She’s mine and she needs to act like it—especially here, surrounded by predators.
Gideon raises his hands. “We wouldn’t dare,” he says. “Like you said, you won her fair and square per my rules…and I’m not going to look a gift horse in the mouth when I get a new foot-soldier.”
A tremor wracks Peaches, and she lets out a little whimper. I glance over to realize her neck is still bleeding, a rivulet of rubies trickling over the leather collar.
It makes something inside me twist painfully.
“I need to tend to my mate,” I tell Gideon. “Clean her up—get dressed, warm, safe.”
Gideon looks at Ephraim. “Son, can you show them to the guest suite?”
The words sound almost stupid coming out of Gideon’s mouth. It suggests some kind of opulence that I’m sure doesn’t exist on the Rig—no matter how much Gideon wants to fashion himself like a king. I stand and hold Peaches tight to my side, letting them all see how big I am, how virile. I want them to be threatened.
“I’ll have some of my clothes sent to your room,” Gideon says, then he snickers at his ruined daughter. “Have fun.”
I clench my fist as I stride past him with Peaches held tight.
By the time this is over, I plan on giving him a new scar.
CHAPTER NINE
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PEACHES
I’m still reeling from the events of the past two days when Ephraim shuts me in my room with my mate.
My mate.
My whole life, I’ve dreamt of a great, sweeping love story—something that was never attainable on the Rig, but that seemed more and more possible as I watched my friends pairing up with kind, caring alphas back at the Austin den. I harbored a kernel of jealousy at Charlotte’s roguish lover, at Tilda’s ability to find love against the odds, at Akari coming out of nowhere and happening upon her mate. I saw how Grant doted on Akari while she was pregnant, how Elijah picked flowers for Charlotte…
And now all that has been stolen from me.
Stolen by the man standing in front of me.
The worst part is that I don’t even know why.
It’s not a rescue—it can’t be, given that we’re still trapped here and that he’s the one who brought me back in the first place. I can’t make sense of any of it as I sink to the bed, wrapping my arms around myself.
I’m cold, frightened, hurt. My neck won’t stop bleeding. I’ve been collared like an animal.
“Why?” I whisper.
Javi turns around, buttoning up the jeans Ephraim gave him a minute ago. His jet black hair is still wet with rain, his green eyes unreadable as usual. His muscles are tense, defined, ready for anything to happen even though we’re alone.
For a second, I wonder if he’s going to leap on me right here and now.
Finish what he started.
According to the laws of the Rig, it’s completely within his rights to do so.
“Why?” I say again, louder this time.
Javi glares at me, and for the first time I recognize the look on his face. He’sannoyedwith me. He’s acting like I’ve asked a stupid question. He walks right past me, toward an old clawfoot tub in the corner, where he turns on the faucet.
“You should clean yourself up,” he grunts.
