by Ginna Moran
“Fucking mood-killer,” Jameson murmurs.
I realize I’m just hanging onto Jameson, devouring Bronx’s words. And with them comes a rush of confusion. I nearly forgot about last night and how Ronan pissed me off enough that I attacked him...but after that? I don’t remember.
“Uh, Jamie,” I whisper. “I don’t want to go. Convince them for me, will you?”
He groans and sets me on my feet. Shutting off the water, he opens the door and stands naked in front of his brothers. They all look up but train their gazes past him to me. I place my hands on my hips, trying not to squirm as they drink in the sight of my naked body.
“Gwen doesn’t want to go,” Jameson says, grabbing a towel to hand to me. “I’m not making her.”
“We have to stand as a coven,” Bronx says.
Jameson twists to look at me. “Sorry, Gigi. I tried.”
I glare at him. “Not very hard.”
“I have to agree that it’s important,” Jameson says, wrapping me in the towel he still holds for me.
Twisting my mouth, I shift my attention to Bronx, Everett, and Mikkalo. They wait for me to open my mouth to argue. Instead, I do the only thing I can think of. I drop my towel to the floor and saunter over.
“Uh-oh,” Jameson murmurs. “She’s determined.”
I bite my bottom lip to hide my smile. I close the space to Bronx first and hook my fingers to the front of his shirt. “Please don’t make me,” I say. “I thought that we could all spend a little time together. Last night was intense.”
Bronx sighs. “Gwen.”
I shift my hair from my shoulder. “Maybe I could feed you all.”
Bronx clenches his jaw, his eyes flashing silver. His features harden, and he locks his fingers to my waist, pulling me against him. He caresses his lips to mine, sneaking his hands down to my ass. “You’re torturing me.”
“It doesn’t have to be,” I say, smiling.
“Yes, it does. My answer is still no.”
“No?”
“Ah, hell,” Mikkalo says. “Come on, brother. Look at our girl. We can’t deny her. She is putting a lot of effort into not going.”
Everett extends his hand to me, and I let him spin me into him. “What about a compromise? We give Gwen what she wants now and then handle things after. I’m sure Ronan won’t mind if we’re a bit late. He’ll understand.”
“Especially after last night,” Mikkalo says, punching Everett with a smile.
I frown, turning to Mikkalo. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
The four of them look at each other with various expressions. Jameson breaks first, tipping his head back to laugh. Mikkalo steals me from Everett and grins at me, leaning in to kiss me even as I narrow my eyes at him.
Everett stands behind me, pressing against me. “Your sexiness distracted me. I meant to ask how your head is.”
“Our girl is perfect,” Jameson says. “Woke up a little insatiable, but I took good care of her.”
Heat flushes my skin, sending tingles through me at his words. He and Bronx close the circle around me, way too amused.
“Was I hurt?” I ask, shifting to look at Everett.
“Knocked both you and Ronan out,” Everett says, pressing his lips together.
I suck in a breath through my teeth. “But you’re laughing. You sure you didn’t tear Ronan apart and only want to rush out of here to avoid more conflict?”
“Mik, bring up the feed,” Jameson says, smiling wider.
“Is no place safe from you, Mikkalo?” I ask.
He chuckles. “Nope.”
Everett swats him. “He’s kidding. We don’t spy on households. Ronan gave us access to ensure safety because of the attack. All of our room cams have been disabled too.”
Mikkalo breaks our circle first to pull his com device from his pocket. Jameson wraps a towel around my body, nudging me toward the door to our bedroom. He plops on the edge of the bed and pulls me onto his lap. Mikkalo sits next to us with Bronx on our other side. Everett stands in front and peers down as Mikkalo taps a few buttons.
I stare in shock, embarrassment burning my cheeks. “How the hell do you guys even tolerate me?”
Mikkalo laughs. “Wait for it.”
Covering my mouth with my hand, I cringe, watching the video of me yelling and tackling Ronan. Video me swings out and slaps the rugged vampire across the face for the second time.
“You will not disrespect me or my coven with your bullshit fantasies,” I say through gritted teeth.
Ronan’s eyes widen. “I’ve never seen anything like her.”
The fact that he talks about me to my face, pretending like I’m not even there must set me the hell off. I raise my hand to slap the vampire again as my guys look down on us instead of ripping me away.
“You tell him, ball kicker,” Mikkalo says on the feed.
Ronan snatches my hand, stopping me from hitting him again. I cringe again at the shrillness of my voice echoing from the com device.
“You fucker,” I snap at Ronan, trying to yank my hand away. I jerk my head to look at my guys. “Why are you all just standing there?”
Bronx rubs the back of his neck in the video. “You got it handled pretty well.”
“I think I’m in love,” Ronan says, letting me slap him with my other hand.
“What the fuck?” I ask.
“So back-world.”
His words piss me off even now, and I dig my fingers into Mikkalo’s leg in anticipation to see how my crazy ass reacts.
“Here it comes,” Mikkalo says, linking his fingers through mine.
I gasp. Holy shit. I watch myself jerk my head back and slam it into Ronan’s, head-butting him. In the video, Bronx doesn’t even let me slump onto the vampire. Everett snatches me from Bronx and disappears from view.
“How am I still alive?” I ask.
“We’d have never let anything happen to you,” Everett says, stepping closer, bowing to kiss the top of my head. “The Crescent Coven wouldn’t fight us either. We outmatch them by quite a bit. Ronan is all talk, anyway. He wouldn’t have done anything to jeopardize the shift in power we offered him for helping us.”
“Fucking hell.” Ronan’s musical voice draws my attention back to Mikkalo’s com device. The vampire props himself up on his elbows with a giant gash bleeding on his forehead. “How long was I out?”
Bronx holds his hand out to the guy. “Twenty seconds.”
“Hell, no wonder you’re sneaking around Zaire’s back. She’s something else. If you don’t promise that feisty, gorgeous thing a Blood Vow, you bet your asses I will.”
Mikkalo flicks off his com device before I can hear the rest of their conversation. I crinkle my nose, glaring at him.
“I want to watch the rest,” I say.
He leans in and kisses me. “Not a chance. We don’t need you to get all riled up again.”
I nip his lip. “I wouldn’t get riled up.”
“Yeah-fucking-right, Gigi. You went from nervous to my badass babe in like two seconds. We need to keep as many alliances as we can.” Jameson shakes my shoulders.
“That was only because of...” I groan and bow my head forward. Thoughts of Silas sneak up on me, and I can’t stop the image of him with fangs flashing through my mind. I still don’t even know how to deal with all of that.
Bronx squeezes my hand. “We’ll figure it out as soon as we start the interrogations. But right now, we need to get dressed, keep charming the hell out of the Crescent Coven, and try not to murder anyone. Every alliance at this point is important for when we have to formally announce Zaire’s death. The board will look to other rulers in our region to see if power should pass on to me or if they should open the empty board seat to someone else.”
I blink a few times. “Wait, the board seat?”
“I’m next in line,” Bronx says, remaining expressionless.
“Damn.” I don’t know why, but it was one thing with Bronx controlling the region. It’s a wh
ole other thing to think of him joining the board of Donor Life Corp. Just the thought of him working for the very ones I’ve always thought of as the enemy freaks me out a bit.
“Gwen, talk to me,” Bronx says. “I can’t decipher your expression.”
I push off Jameson and get to my feet, keeping my back to the four of them. A dozen thoughts swirl through my mind. Closing my eyes, I inhale a few deep breaths. I don’t want any of them to see that the idea bothers me.
A gentle hand touches my shoulder. “Gwen, please look at me.”
I swivel to look up at Bronx but don’t get a chance to open my mouth to say something.
The shock alarms blare, and all five of us drop to the floor.
Chapter 7
Selfish
MIKKALO HOPS TO HIS FEET first and scoops me up, helping me cover my ears. The guys never react to the shock alarms at home and watching them orient themselves freaks me out a bit. Bronx and Everett look to me to see if I’m okay before disappearing out of the room. Jameson tugs an unfamiliar dress over my head, probably from one of the staff members.
“Let me take Gwen,” Jameson tells Mikkalo, shouting over the alarms.
Mikkalo hesitates, sucking in a breath through his teeth. I extend my arms to Jameson to encourage Mikkalo, reminding him it’s my time with his brother, and I’m sure Jameson wants Mikkalo to be free to fight if he has to.
Relenting, Mikkalo hands me to Jameson and pulls his com device from his pocket. He taps the screen, bringing up the video feeds. The alarms shut off, leaving my ears ringing. Jameson holds me with one arm while he somehow manages to dress with a little help from me. I stretch to get a glimpse of whatever Mikkalo’s looking at. I see figures blurring across the cameras as the Crescents, Bronx and Everett, and the household security team swarm the property.
Mikkalo releases a growl. “I see something. Balcony 216.”
“On our way.” Ronan’s voice sounds from Mikkalo’s device.
I realize he was talking to everyone scouring the property and not Jameson and me. Jameson adjusts me in his arms to stare at Mikkalo’s com device. I swivel, knowing exactly what his sneaky-ass is trying to do by making it harder for me to see. I wiggle and stretch, silently fighting against Jameson without calling him out. He doesn’t call me out either, just continuing to reposition me.
“Get ready,” Mikkalo says. “It’s a person. Can’t tell if it’s human or vampire.”
I grab Jameson’s face and pull his head toward my breasts. The small distraction gets him to loosen his hold enough for me to link my hands to Mikkalo’s tight muscles and pull the both of us to him. He doesn’t even budge, also ignoring the fact that Jameson and I play our silent game. Jameson finally gives up on trying to stop me from watching the feeds, and I dig my nails into Mikkalo as a figure stands up.
“Ah hell,” Jameson and I say at the same time.
Mikkalo zooms in on the figure. “Capture, don’t kill. It’s Silas.”
Bronx turns his attention to the nearest security cam, looking directly in it so that we can see his face. His frown matches mine, a dozen dark emotions hardening his features. “As long as he doesn’t put up a fight.”
“We can use him, brother,” Mikkalo says.
None of us has time to argue as Ronan leads his security detail into one of the rooms. They stroll past a couple in bed, frozen by surprise, and head toward the door to the balcony. I tense, fear and anxiety tightening my chest. Now that Silas isn’t right in front of me, it’s easier to think than let my dhampir half react. But seeing him as a vampire still fucks me up inside.
“Mr. Crescent, I come unarmed,” Silas says, raising his hands.
No one gives him a chance to say anything more. The security detail captures him and throws a black bag on his head. Mikkalo clicks off his com device, not allowing me to see anything that happens next.
***
“When were you going to tell me that Zaire was dead?” Ronan paces around the circular black and white rug in front of a sleek, black metal and glass-topped desk.
I sit on a leather couch between Jameson and Everett while Bronx remains standing with Mikkalo by his side to back him up. Apart from Ronan, only his coven brother Nash is present, leaning against the far wall to silently watch everything unfold.
“I wasn’t if I didn’t have to.” Bronx crosses his arms, standing taller than anyone. His broad chest and bulging muscles make him intimidating as hell...and super hot. There’s just something about seeing him all hard-ass toward someone other than me that I love.
Ronan growls and spins to punch a hole in the wall. “Who else knows?”
“What’s left of the Anderson Coven.” How Bronx manages to stay calm and in control with the man who looks like he’s about to have a coronary? I have no idea. I admire it though. Seeing him confident and unexpressive helps keep my nerves in check.
“Corona? Seriously?” Damn. Ronan looks offended as hell. I can’t really blame him. I’d probably be pissed too.
“I’m not exactly happy about it either,” Bronx says, flicking his attention to me. “He matched to Gwen’s brother and grew suspicious. It accidentally came out.”
“Is that why more than half of his coven is dead?” Ronan finally stops pacing. He slumps into the chair behind the desk, resting his elbows on the glass.
Bronx follows his lead and slides in the chair on the opposite side. “We didn’t kill them. It was the unregistered coven involved in the attack on the Yorks.”
“Shit,” Ronan says. “Why now? What does that coven want? It’s obviously not the region.”
“You’re right,” Bronx says, tightening his jaw. He rubs his hand on the back of his neck and glances my way again.
Ronan follows his gaze. “It’s her. They want her.”
No one says anything, but my dumbass face reacts and frowns. Bronx sighs and gets to his feet to close the space to me. He holds open his arms and coaxes me to get to my feet. Enveloping me in a comforting hug, he lifts me up to carry me back to the desk to face Ronan.
“Gwen isn’t a donor from gen. pop.,” Bronx says, sliding his fingers through mine. Of course Ronan wouldn’t know. Only the Andersons knew that Kyler and I were convicted criminals.
“I should’ve guessed,” Ronan says with a sigh. “So was she a runaway from this coven? Entered the Blood Match Program to avoid a blood debt?”
“Not exactly.” Bronx rests his chin on my shoulder. “We caught her in the city with her family trying to get donors out.”
“She’s a Blood Rebel?” Ronan’s voice rises.
Mikkalo, Jameson, and Everett all close the space to us. Nash materializes at Ronan’s side. Tension steals all the air out of the room, the heaviness of the situation suffocating me even though my chest heaves with every single deep breath I inhale.
“She is not, but her family was. The Barons believe they have claim on her, but they do not have a contract or ties to Donor Life Corp,” Bronx says, his face softening.
“And now you’re risking the entire region...for her? One donor? Come the fuck on, Bronx. Are you stupid?” Ronan smacks his palms on the desk, startling me.
Bronx releases a threatening growl. “She is ours!”
Oh, shit.
“Everyone, calm the hell down!” The sound of my voice not only surprises me, but it also surprises everyone else.
The door to the office swings open and the rest of Ronan’s coven brothers enter the room. I rip free from Bronx’s arms and hop to my feet, holding my hands out. No one moves, keeping their distances. All eyes land on me, and I try my best not to react as my human instincts decide that now is the perfect time to alert me to my possible demise as I try to control a room full of angry, on edge vampires.
I turn to face Ronan, looking him dead in the eyes. It’s a bold as hell move, locking eye contact like I am, but there is no way I’m going to let him talk about me like this, especially to my guys.
“You might think I’m some donor, but you’re sor
ely mistaken. I was Blood Matched to Zaire Royale, and I am now a part of the region’s most powerful coven. I am not a blood source, nor will I ever be. If you think that Bronx is making a huge mistake by not handing me over, then you’re the stupid fuck. You think that an unregistered coven would start a blood feud if I were only that?” I keep my voice low to stop it from shaking. “Now, please. I need to see my brother.”
A dozen questions flicker across Ronan’s face, his brows pinching together to nearly blend as one. His light brown eyes search my face, trying to understand what makes me different, but I doubt he could ever guess.
“Under one condition, Ms. Royale,” Ronan says, rubbing his scruffy jaw.
“Call me Gwen. You’re strong allies to the Royale Coven, there is no need for formalities,” I say.
He nods. “Okay, Gwen. If you want to see your brother, you must tell me. Why the Royales? Bronx has asserted his claim, and I can understand his reasoning in a sense, but what about you?”
“I love them. They’re mine,” I say.
“I’m not sure what that’s supposed to mean. Are you looking for a Blood Vow? You realize that will require you to choose one of them to receive their bite—whether it be for love, loyalty, or an enhancement in status, you cannot choose all of them.” Ronan turns his attention to my guys, the four of them remaining expressionless.
“I don’t even know what that is,” I say.
Ronan hums under his breath. “While I can see and understand their infatuation with you, I’m still unclear about you if it’s not a Blood Vow you want. If you love them, then why not do the most ridiculously human thing and save them all the heartache? Stop them from making a huge mistake with this impending war. Why don’t you give yourself over to the Barons to stop the destruction of the Royale power?”
Is he for real? I’m not a martyr. I’m selfish as hell. If I weren’t, I’d have traded myself for my brothers. But it is more than about me. The Barons think I possess some sort of power that will help them rule the future or whatever. But I can’t exactly tell this guy I’m a dhampir. Too many already know.
“Because I’m selfish.” I break my stare to look at my guys. “Because—”
