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He narrowed his eyes. “What do you want, Sally?” he asked, not bothering to hide his suspicion.
“I want for nothing, prince,” she said, her voice low seductively. “I heard you were here. I know you well enough to know that you like to get out your adrenaline in the most productive of ways. I came to offer myself to you, as I usually do.” She frowned. “You’ve never been so hostile to me before. I wonder why that might be.”
“Maybe I’m not in the mood for your services,” he muttered.
Sally stopped just in front of him, cocking her head to the side. She arched a brow, a silent challenge to his words.
He looked away. “I won’t argue with you,” he said.
“You seem in a sour mood,” she said, lowering herself onto his lap. Her long fingers ran through his short hair, nails gently grazing his scalp. “Perhaps I can turn that into something more…positive?”
Matthyw wanted to argue. He didn’t want anything to do with anyone right now. In fact, he needed another mission from Grey that would send him back into a world of violence where he didn’t have to think of Adrya, where he didn’t have to think of anything soft and tempting to fall into.
But then Sally pressed her lips to his throat in that way she knew he liked. And his eyes closed and he didn’t think of anything at all, nothing but the light pleasure brought to his body.
His hands found her slender hips and tightened possessively.
Not because he wanted her.
But because it was so easy for him to lose himself in the fantasy of who he wanted her to be. And since he couldn’t admit it to himself, this was the best he could do.
“Who is Adrya?”
He rubbed his eyes with the palm of his hand, sitting up in bed. He was spent, more than what he expected to be. Then again, after a job and then a quick, arduous fuck, he shouldn’t have been surprised.
“Adrya.”
Matthyw sneered, finally opening his eyes. Sally had her back to him, brushing her long, dark hair over her shoulders. She caught his eye in the reflective glass, waiting for an answer.
He didn’t care. She could wait twenty lifetimes for all he cared. He just needed to get her to stop saying Adrya‘s name. He didn’t like the way it sounded coming from her, coming from anyone that wasn’t him.
“You’ve called me by the name on multiple occasions,” she continued, brushing her hair casually. There was something in her eyes, though, something that implied she wasn’t pleased about this. “At first, I thought it was something in your little wolf language I didn’t understand. A term of affection. But then I’ve heard whispers. Your father has a child named Adrya, does he not?”
Matthyw stood. It was too early for this. He wasn’t in the mood.
“Do you fancy yourself a taste of pure flesh, Matthyw?” she purred with dark amusement. “Do you imagine it was her underneath you, coming for you, scratching at your back with such desperation? Would she even be able to satisfy you? Would she even know what to do with you?” Matthyw bared his teeth, a warning if there ever was one, but she pushed on like she didn’t care, like Matthyw himself didn’t scare her. “And what would your father think if you knew you fantasized about such vile things? What then?”
Matthyw picked up the threat immediately. “You think you’re safe from my violence?” he asked in a low voice. “You dare threaten me?”
“I’ve been around much longer than you have, my prince,” she said slowly. “I may look your age, but many moons have passed me by before your wretched mother pushed you into this earth, a demon escaping the fiery clutches of Hell.” A beat. He couldn’t contradict her. Not when she spoke the truth. “I know a man ruined when I see one. You hide it well. I must admit, even I was fooled. Until now. Until I saw her leave your room, and that look on your face…” She took a step back, whether to maintain her distance or to take in his face, he didn’t know. Quite frankly, he didn’t care. “The great savage prince, known for carnage and bloodshed, brought to his knees by a pure damsel that would never look at him with any regard in his long life.” Her nose wrinkled. “You’re pathetic.”
Matthyw’s rage sparked. His grin turned vicious. “And you’re jealous,” he said. “I didn’t think you were the type. You knew what sort of arrangement this would be.”
“I know exactly what I am,” she purred, her dark eyes glimmering. “Do you know whatyouare? You’re nothing. A killer. A prince who longs to be king. Do you think by seducing your Alpha’s only child, you will get control of the pack? Is that truly what you believe?”
Matthyw considered killing her. His hands were still bloody from before, and the animal that lived inside of him was hungry. Usually, he tempered the hunger with a quick, hard rut or more violence, but Sally was pushing his limits, and they weren’t strong to begin with.
Sally stepped back, her lips still quirked up in that knowing grin, one Matthyw envisioned clawing off.
“Well,” she said. “I leave here knowing one of us is thoroughly fucked. I hope it was as satisfying for you as it was for me.”
With that, she sauntered out the door, hips swaying left and right the entire way.
The second the door was tucked closed, he took the nearest thing he could find — a glass meant to hold wine or ale — and tossed it at the wall. It shattered into a thousand pieces.
Sally wasn’t wrong. Hewasfucked. Because if she knew about Adrya, about how he felt for her, what then?
Embyrlyn
