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“Am I?” He leans back, a cruel smirk twisting his lips. “Face it, she played you. She was a whore, Gunnar. She never loved you.”
His words hit like a sucker punch, raw and brutal. Every muscle in my body tightens, but I keep my stance solid, unyielding. “You think you can break me with lies?” I seethe, my voice low and steady despite the storm raging inside.
“Believe what you want.” Vance shrugs, his smirk widening. “But it won’t change the truth.”
“Your truth isn’t worth shit,” I retort, my hands itching for a fight. “But go on, keep talking. Every word digs your grave deeper.”
“Threats now?” Vance laughs, the sound grating against my ears. “You’re losing your edge, little brother.”
“Don’t fucking call me that,” I spit. “You’ve never been a brother to me.”
“Well, I didn’t want to,” he says, looking down into his drink. “But your dad fucked my whore mother, so—“
And that’s what does it.
I’m up and launching myself across the table before I can stop myself, seeing Huxley’s eyes go wide out of the corner of my vision. The air cracks with the sound of my fist slamming into Vance’s jaw, a solid connection that sends him reeling back in his chair. The taste of blood and anger is sharp on my tongue as I lunge across the table, toppling plates and glasses, all pretense of civility shattered.
“Son of a bitch!” Vance spits out blood, but there’s no surrender in his eyes, just the same old defiance.
I don’t bother with words anymore; my fists do the talking, hammering down on him, relentless. The room blurs to shades of red and fury, each hit a release for the pent-up rage roiling inside me.
“Enough, Gunnar!” Huxley’s voice cuts through the chaos. His hands clamp down on my shoulders, his grip iron-strong, yanking me back. “That’s enough!”
But it’s not. It’ll never be enough.
“Get off me!” I thrash, trying to shake him, but he’s a damn immovable force, stronger than he looks after years of grappling with unruly alphas. Vance is wiping blood from his lip, that smug look trying to creep back onto his face.
“Look at you,” Vance sneers, propping himself up on the table. “A wild dog off its leash.”
“Shut your mouth!” I shout, struggling against Huxley’s hold. “Or I’ll do it for you.”
“Come on, son.” Huxley’s voice has that tone, the one that says he’s walking a fine line between backup and peacemaker. “This isn’t going to fix anything.”
“Let go,” I growl, and this time he does, stepping back with his hands raised, a silent concession.
I point a finger at Vance, my chest heaving with labored breaths. “You’ll pay for what you did, Vance. I swear on everything I got left. You’ll pay.”
Chapter six
Aisling
Dawn creeps over the horizon, its light a mere whisper against the night’s decadence. The courtyard sprawls around me, a mosaic of bodies tangled in the aftermath of desire and ritual. My back is to the cold ground, Luka’s weight a comforting pressure. His breath comes slow, rhythmic.
He’s here.
He’s here to rescue me…but I didn’t ask to be saved.
I never expected them to come looking for me, not when we were all certain I would be killed by the Eclipse. When I told Vance to give me up in exchange for Gunnar, I fully expected to go to my death.
But I found someone waiting for me…
…my father, Jasper.
This horrible cult’s leader.
He took me off Caius Rossi’s hands, saying that he would keep me out of the way in New Eden—that they could use me for experiments, given that I was one of the first test subjects for eros. That’s how I ended up here, back home where I never wanted to return.
And I’ve been sowing seeds of discontent ever since, waiting for my moment to take this place over so I can go home to Gunnar and Oberon.
