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He knows it. He sees the flight-or-freeze warring inside of me, and he's laughing about it.
So he's onthatside, I guess. Mason, for all his gruff demands, doesn't like to terrify me. Benedict does. So how close, or far, is Noah to the marquis and his plot to disrupt the household line?
Noah thinks I'm freezing, aching to flee. But I have teeth too.
"Quiet, or boring?" I ask, letting my tone go flat. The insult hits, and for a moment he's confused, that I, a mere peon, a peasant, would dare to lash out in any way other than physical.
His reaction is measured in millimeters, not inches, a silent storm marching through his eyes as he stares at me.
Then he smiles.
"I'd heard you were clever. Good that my sources haven't disappointed me." He reaches out and grabs me by the chin, fingers wrapping around the back of my neck as his thumb tucks across my lips, holding my mouth shut. "I can start rumors just as quickly as I hear them," he says, and he bends in close.My heart kicks up speed, his nose inches from mine, my body starting to arch to move away from his.
But his grip on me tightens, tips of his fingers digging into the back of my neck between the tendons.
"Don't let me send you running from these halls in disgrace," he murmurs, that silk voice of his going low, rough, promising the threat to be very real. "You aren't the first maid I've ruined for good employment. Unless you liked working at the bar?"
Instantly my body is cold. How does he know? That wasn't on my resume. The placement agency had purposefully kept it off.
"Her pupils widen, her breath stalls, and suddenly the prey knows that the wolf has her in his jaw," His mouth is next to my ear, barely whispering those words. My eyes close.
"Noah!" The whip-sharp crack of Benedict's voice shatters us, and Noah pulls away, letting go of me so fast and hard I nearly stumble backward.
Down the hall, Benedict is striding toward us, fury on his face.
Noah, his body language shifting from young-asshole-noble to young-man-caught-shoplifting, shoves his hands into the pockets of his trousers.
"So good to see you brother. Hug?" Noah asks, although he must be joking. Benedict face is in a scowl, and one of his fists is clenched, a promise of a punch more than a filial greeting.
And I stand here, gasping for air quietly, and feeling the ghost of Noah's hand on me still. My skin tingles, the muscles in my legs shaky, and I should run, make some excuse and go. But I can't. I'm stuck, frozen, my whole body refusing to do anything but exist. At least my heart is still going, my lungs still expanding,demanding air.
And Benedict looks like he's about to visit holy hell on Noah's head, although hopefully not on my behalf.
I don't know why he would bother on my behalf.
"You've met the nanny," Benedict says," I trust she is to your satisfaction?"
"Oh, some, but I'll get the measure of her later. The more important question, is she to yours?" Noah's words drip with extra meaning, and Benedict glares, before looking at me. His eyes soften a bit, and my throat closes up in response. Why is he looking at me like that? Like he…
"Did he touch you?"
"In a way you've touched her? Don't be so jealous, Ben, or selfish. We always like to share, don't we?"
My body flashes to cold, then hot, and I take a step back. So… maybe Noah isn't on Benedict's side. And I don't know what he means, that they share. My heart is beating rapidly and strongly, so much so that I can feel it in my throat.
"I need to- "
"Don't move," Noah demands.
"Don't go," Benedict says, his voice gentler. "He's not going to bully you. You belong here as much as anyone does."
"She's not family," Noah scoffs. "You've gone soft in the head if you think—"
Benedict makes a noise in his chest that reminds me of a wolf, and Noah stills, then smirks.
"Oh it's like that?" The two exchange equally terrifying glares, like they're about to throw down and begin fighting. "Do you know she's gone for our eldest brother? Has her eye on the coronet, if I'm not mistaken."
"I do not!" My cry rings out in the hallway, up and down, bouncing off of the marble floor and gilded wood walls. Both men turn to look at me and I give Noah an even stare. I've had enough. "You run your mouth like you're common. Where's the manners of the nobility?" I ask, lifting my chin and standing as tall as I can. In my mind, I feel like I'm a dragon, mantling my wings to show him how scary, how fearsome I can be. It's a bet, a gamble, it might not work. But I have earned my place here, not on my back. I deserve it with all the hard work I am putting in to keep Madeline happy and well-adjusted while her moronic family insists on running around trying to murder each other in between parties and attempting to woo me. Or whatever it is they think they're doing when they're putting their hands on me and looking at me intensely. This whole household is insane.
