Page 47 of His Ruthless Queen

He lifts his head, his earthy brown eyes staring into mine. Past my eyes, into my soul, my very essence. “Callum will see it for what it is. And he will let them know you’re married.”

I swallow, nodding my head. Doubt swirls in my gut, and he must sense it. He unravels the scarf from our joined hands, now stained with warm red liquid.

“This isn’t a joke to me, Saoirse. Church bells or not, you’re my fucking wife. And I will not stop until you’re safe.”

Chapter Twenty

Isitinoneof the chairs across from Saoirse’s desk while she finishes showering in the bathroom. I hopped in with her, cleaned her up, and slid out so she could have time to decompress. Now, I’m sitting here, my heart split in two.

It’s serious, what I’ve just done. The blood oath hasn’t been an actual thing in decades. The last recorded one was well before the 1900s. But with the Irish and their weird ways, Callum will accept what just happened as a binding.

I’ll be punished for doing it without permission, no doubt. It’ll be worth it. I’ll wear whatever he sees fit as a punishment like a badge of honor. She’s not marrying that asshole. Not marrying either asshole. I’ll find Vladimir and kill him myself.

I was thinking with jealousy and rage when I took her the way I did. When I sliced our palms and claimed her as my wife, I was riding a delusional high that Callum wouldn’t murder me for taking her and claiming her when she wasn’t mine.

Now, I have to start doing damage control.

I pull out my phone, shooting a text to Declan. I’m loyal to Callum. I’ll do anything for him. But Declan is one of the brothers that I view as a friend. Hell, he is a friend. The closest thing to a brother I had growing up. I need him on my side for this.

Scotty:I need you to back me up. What’s it going to cost?

Declan:Depends. What did you do?

Scotty:What’s the worst thing you can think?

Declan:Betrayal. Who did you cross? Sean I can pacify. Callum? You’re fucked, bro.

Scotty:Did you know the engagement was a transaction to him?

My phone rings, and I sigh as Declan’s name crosses the screen. “Yes?” I say, unimpressed.

“What the fuck did you do?” Declan asks, a grumble in his voice.

“It’s not something you should hear over the phone.”

Silence fills the line. Then, he responds. “You fucked her.”

“No,” I say, the lie coming out too easily. “It’s worse than that, Dec. Way fucking worse.”

“Jesus Christ. Where are you? I’m on my way.”

“Haley is coming to Saoirse’s for dinner. Meet me at O’Doul’s in two hours.”

“Fine.”

The line goes dead. I head over to the other side of the room, where I tossed the ring earlier. I kick it from underneath the filing cabinet. Bending down, I swipe it and slide it in my pocket. She won’t be getting it back.

Saoirse comes out of the bathroom, her hair damp, loose, and pulled over one shoulder. She swapped out the dress for a cream satin button up and tan trousers. Her top is tucked into the pants that settle around her belly button.

She smiles, running the white towel through her hair before dropping it into the basket beside the door.

“How much do you have left to do?” I ask. I head for her desk, pulling out a small first aid kit.

She hitches a shoulder, coming to sit at her desk. “I’m pretty much done for the day. We can head home in a minute.”

My hands grab her hips, and I settle her on top of the desk. I settle into the chair, scooting it between her open legs. She holds out her hand, allowing me to clean it up and bandage it for her. My chest hums with the comfortable closeness, the need to constantly touch her, be near her, smell her. I swallow, pushing away from her.

“We need to talk about this,” Saoirse says, running her index finger over the bandage.

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