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“Shall I call a plumber?” George asks.
“I’ll take care of it.” Yara appears from out of nowhere. “I took a course on plumbing as part of my degree. I bet I can patch up whatever mess you’ve made.”
“I don’t know what we even need boys for,” I grumble to George as we drag our sodden asses down the hall. Yara heads off to the garage to find some tools, whistling under her breath.
“You don’t mean that.” George looks terrified.
“They’re acting like babies.”
“They’re acting like three guys madly in love with you who are trying to sort out their shit,” George says. She trembles a little as she shoves open the ballroom door. I’m not sure if it’s the freezing water dripping from her clothes or the fact that this is the first time she’s ever contradicted me. “Gabriel is trying to banish his demons for you. He wants to prove that he’s worthy of your love. And you saying you’d marry him just like that…” she snaps her fingers. “It made him feel like you don’t care. And…”
She freezes. I glare at her. “Out with it, Fisher.”
George looks away. “And I’ve heard them talking about you, late at night, when you’re holed up in your office. Talking about the future. About marriage and babies and college and shit.”
My heart thuds against my chest. “What did they say?”
“I think you should ask them yourself.”
George shoves me forward. I stumble over the threshold into the ballroom, expecting her to follow. Instead, she slams the door on me.
Traitor.
I swipe a stand of matted hair from my eye and find myself staring into four sets of eyes – my three princes draped over my sofas, and the wide sapphire blue orbs of Casper the tiger, who darts around Queen Boudica’s cat castle like he owns it.
Gabe grins at me and makes a comment about a wet t-shirt contest, and Noah threatens him with evisceration. They’re all behaving perfectly normal, as if that fight we had at lunch never happened.
But I know it happened.
And we’re dealing with this shit right now.
“So, I hear you’ve been discussing our future without me.” I yank off my damp t-shirt and reach for Gabe’s big, cozy Octavia’s Ruin hoodie. As soon as I tug it over my head, his pagan scent slams into me.
My breath stutters.
Am I wrong?
I’m backed into a corner by Nero and this fucking sham marriage. Am I doing what I always do – lashing out like a caged animal, a wild heart desperate to kill the hand that feeds? I bury my face into Gabe’s hoodie, sinking into myself like a cat crouching low before it strikes.
Am I wrong?
Am I trying to love them the only way I know how to love, with claws and teeth, with possession and control?
“I told you George overheard us,” Eli says to the others. In their shared glances I catch their unease, their fear.
No, no, this isn’t love. They shouldn’t be afraid of me.
Eli smiles at me, but it’s wobbly.
“What’s going on?” I meet each of their eyes with my patented Ice Queen glare. Only Noah can hold my gaze for longer than a moment. I pull the hoodie over my knees. My armor in place, I cross the room to get all up in their grills, allowing their individual scents to reach me through the invisible bars of my cage.
I touch my finger to the August tattoo on Noah’s wrist, and even he flinches.
“I thought we were a team,” I whisper. “I thought we took an oath to protect each other, to be with each other always. And here you all are, making plans without me.”
“You made plans without us,” Noah says. He won’t look me in the eye. “You decided to marry Gabriel. That’s a pretty big thing to fucking spring on us without discussing first, especially after you told him you weren’t ready.”
“I was trying to de-escalate the duke situation. It’s got nothing to do with what I want or what I’m ready for. In my job, I don’t always get that luxury. And besides, it didn’t work, so you can stop harping on about it and tell me what the fuck you’re all planning behind my back.”
