by Celia Aaron
He growled into my skin and slammed inside me, staying deep as his cock kicked and shot in strong spurts. I let my hand fall and leaned my head against the tree. He grunted and thrust one more time before kissing the vicious bite mark that would surely bruise.
“I needed that. You. I needed you.” He rested his forehead against my shoulder and steadied his breathing.
I turned to him. “I needed you, too.”
He kissed me softly, his lips a gentle melody instead of the crashing crescendo of a few moments earlier.
“Stella?” Dmitri’s voice drifted on the warm air.
“Shit.” I pushed back against Sin.
He didn’t move, just shoved his hips forward, his half-mast cock sending a tingle through me.
“Krasivaya? We train?” His voice sounded closer.
“Sin, he’s going to see. Get off.”
“I already got off once. I’d like to do it again.” He smoothed a hand down my stomach and rubbed my too-sensitive clit.
“No.” I jerked at his touch.
“I like it when you fight.” His voice was a low rasp.
“You haven’t seen me fight. Not yet.” I tried to buck him, but it only pushed him in deeper.
He grunted and pulled my hair, still thrusting his cock slowly inside me. “You’ll have to do better than that.”
“Krasivaya?” Dmitri was close and getting closer.
Panic rose right along with my embarrassment at the thought of getting caught.
“Fight some more. Come on. You know I enjoy it.” Sin’s voice in my ear was hell, his mastery of my body, heaven.
“You asked for it.” I reached over my head and grabbed a fistful of his hair, yanking viciously while I simultaneously threw my elbow back.
He grunted and backed off enough so I could spin to face him. The move dislodged his cock, but I scraped my side on the tree bark as I went.
His eyes were full of amusement, even as he tilted his head to the side because of my grip of his hair. He shoved me back into the tree. “What now?”
“Now she throat punch you.” Dmitri walked around the trunk, and I scrambled to pull up my pants. My shirt had thankfully fallen to cover my breasts.
Sin, not caring about his state of undress, glared at Dmitri. “Get the fuck out of here. We’re busy.”
“She need practice.” Dmitri looked everywhere but at me.
“No shit. You’ve been teaching her to pull hair? That’s it?” Sin tucked his cock back in and zipped up. “That’s not good enough.”
“Not good enough for what?” Dmitri exploded forward until he and Sin were almost nose to nose. “What you do to her? What?”
“Fuck off, Russian. This won’t end well for you.” A wave of menace rolled off Sin like heat rising from pavement.
“Stop.” I pushed at their shoulders. Neither man backed away.
“Stay out of this, Krasivaya. If he will not tell me truth, I beat it from him.” Dmitri’s scowl would have made even the fiercest fighter balk, but it seemed to only make Sin angrier, more ready to spill blood.
“Let’s show him. Come on, Dmitri.” I backed away from the shadow beneath the tree and out into the sunny grass. An ache shot between my legs thanks to Sin’s attentions, but I had to separate the bristling men before they fought. “Let’s spar.”
“I rather spar with Sinclair.”
Shit. “Please?” I tried my best wheedling tone. “Don’t you want to help me get better?”
Soft-hearted Dmitri broke his death stare with Sin and glanced at me. “I do.”
“Come on then.” I brought my fists up. “I need help.”
Dmitri snarled at Sin. “This not over.”
Sin grinned. “Go on. Show me the tricks you learned in your Russian gutter. Let me see what I’ve been paying for.”
“Sin!” I hissed.
“What?” He shrugged as Dmitri turned and entered the sunlight with me. Crossing his arms over his chest, Sin tilted his chin up. “Show me what you’ve got besides hair pulling.”
“Position one, Krasivaya.”
I bent slightly at the knees and kept my hands up, palms open. Dmitri ran at me. I shifted my weight to the side, let him barrel past, and aimed a kicked at the back of his knee. He stumbled and then straightened.
“Good. Position Two.”
I straightened, hands still up, as Dmitri approached. He drew back his right fist and aimed it at my face. He jabbed and I dodged, slapping his fist away and shoving hard against his arm to throw him off balance. He took a step and caught himself.
“Attack.” He bent at the knees and waved me to him.
I edged to his right and darted in, aiming the tips of my straight fingers at his throat. He swung when I got close. His fist grazed the top of my head as I ducked and stabbed upward with my hand, but he caught my wrist before I made contact.
“Good.” He grunted his approval.
“Your greatest strength is surprise. Your greatest skill—speed. Do not forget, Krasivaya. You look weak. You small.” He tapped the side of my head. “Use to your advantage.”
Sin approached. “She’s got a few moves. I can see that. But I think you could have done more to—”
I exploded off the ground and kicked my legs up. Sin wasn’t quick enough this time, so I was able to straddle his neck and take him down. Landing on his back, he tried to shove me off. I tightened my legs around his neck as I sat on his chest, pinning him.
I pulled my fist back and smiled in triumph. “I could break your nose if I wanted to.”
He glanced between my thighs, his eyes sparkling in the sun, before staring up at me. “I think I like this brand of training.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
SINCLAIR
I RAN MY FINGERS through her hair, sifting the strands while my mind did the same with memories. She slumbered at my side, snuggled up to my darkness as if it gave off some sort of heat. The only warmth I had was a reflection of hers. Nothing more.
Sun streamed through her bedroom windows, lighting the bed and the quilts along the walls. Mother still asked every so often if I would make one to commemorate my Acquisition, as if it were a badge of honor. I enjoyed disappointing her each time she brought it up. If it were up to me, I’d destroy every one of them.
I studied the oldest one, the seams still tight. Its artistry reminded me of what we once were—sharecroppers and seamstresses. When my great-great-grandfather unwittingly saved the life of the reigning Sovereign, he’d damned us to this life. Seeing us now, raised so high amongst our wicked cohorts, would he regret his act of mercy?
I closed my eyes, blocking out my history, and relished every point of contact I had with Stella as her breath tickled my chest.
I’d been back for two weeks, ignoring my work and, instead, focusing on her. She trained and fought, thriving despite the hellish environs of the Acquisition. I wondered at her strength, where it came from, why I didn’t have it. But I also saw her self-destruction—how she pushed herself further to the brink every day. Her torment was mine. It pained me to see her so hell bent on punishing herself for wrongs she never committed. Still, trying to stop her was like trying to stop the Acquisition itself.
She shifted and her breathing quickened. Perhaps my shadowy thoughts had invaded whatever pleasant dream she’d been having.
“Who was Cora?” Her voice was still thick with sleep. “Renee told me she was your aunt, but nothing else.”
“What makes you think of that?” I ran my fingers along her smooth side.
“I dreamed of that night. The one with your mother.” Her eyelashes fluttered against my chest.
That hellish night. I sighed. I kept nothing from her anymore. She knew me, all of me, and yet she still lay here in my arms as if I weren’t a twisted monster. I kissed the crown of her head. “My aunt, yes. She was the youngest in my mother’s family. The one my mother fought to save.”
“She was Rebecca’s Teddy?”
“Yes.”
; She rolled back so her head was nestled on my shoulder, her green eyes piercing even as she emerged from the cobwebs of her dreams. “But Rebecca won. So, what happened to Cora?”
“Cora witnessed it all. She saw what Rebecca and Renee went through. She knew from the start that it was her life on the line. Years after it was all over, she hung herself in the woods.”
Stella clenched her eyes shut. “God. I’m sorry, Sin.”
“I don’t remember her much.” Her red hair and warm smile were almost lost to me, just like my mother—both women erased by the Acquisition. “My mother took it in, ingested the blame like a fine meal, and let it drag her down even further. It was all for nothing. My mother screamed those words at Cora’s funeral.” The memory of her, all in black, sinking to her knees and screeching at the clear blue sky, passed before my eyes before disappearing.
Stella scooted on top of me and cupped my cheek. “You were too young.” The unshed tears in her eyes glistened, and I wanted to take them away.
“That’s why Teddy can never know.” I smoothed my palms down her back. “That’s the past. We have plenty to think about without it.”
Resting her chin on my chest, she said, “One more week. I just wish we knew what the trial will be.”
“So do I.” I’d tried to get information from Sophia, but she was almost as cold as her father. I still had my claws in her, I knew—she’d been texting me while she was in New York for the past few weeks. I hadn’t failed with her, not yet.
Even if she agreed to an alliance with me, I still had the problem of her lover, Ellis, to deal with. If Cal found out she was seeing him instead of setting her cap at the next Sovereign, his displeasure would be lethal. So, if she wouldn’t go along with my plans of her own accord, I could always dangle Ellis in front of her like a tasty lure. I would be the hook.
Still, she’d divulged nothing about her father’s plans. The trial was almost here, and I hadn’t been able to divine the actual mechanism Cal would use to wreak havoc on Stella. Rage exploded in my chest, and I beat against the cage I was born into like I’d done so many times before. In the end, I was still trapped, still lying here with the woman I’d kill to protect, but harm to save Teddy.
A light knock sounded at my door.
I pulled Stella next to me in the bed and covered her with the blanket. “Yes?”
“I’m sorry, sir. There’s a man at the gate demanding to see you.” Farns’ voice wavered through the wood.
“Who?”
“Red Witherington.”
“Fucking hell.” I moved to the edge of the bed and stabbed my legs in my jeans. “Farns, let him in.”
“Very good, sir.”
Stella rose and pulled her tank top over her head.
“You’re staying here.”
“Like hell I am.” She yanked on her panties and jeans.
I turned. “He hates you. If he has even a shred of information that can help us, then I need you out of sight. Understand?”
“What makes you think he came here to help?” She threw her hair over her shoulder and pulled her top down the rest of the way, covering the sight of her mouthwatering breasts.
I strode to her and grabbed her shoulders, holding her gaze. “I don’t know why he’s here. But if he sees you, it won’t matter. It will all go to hell.”
She opened her mouth to argue, then then closed it.
“Do you trust me?” I asked the question I had no right to even think in her presence. I held my breath, wishing we were different people in a different life. Even as we were, could she give me the trust I didn’t deserve but desperately wanted?
She rested her hand against my chest, over my heart. “Yes.”
She must have had something in her palm, because warmth spread from it as surely as if she were the sun on a hot day. I kissed her harder than I’d intended. I must have put the weight of everything I felt, everything I was capable of feeling, into it. She wrapped her arms around my neck, pulling me closer, matching me with the same fiery intensity I’d seen in her the very first day we met.
She broke the kiss and stepped back. “Okay. I’ll stay away, but I won’t promise not to eavesdrop.”
I took her hand and kissed her palm. “I would expect nothing less.”
I turned and strode out and down the hallway to the main stairs. I met Lucius on the landing. Dragging his carry-on behind him, his clothes were rumpled and he needed a shave.
I smirked. “You look like hell.”
“Thanks. Just got back from Brazil. Rough fucking flight.”
“Everything all right?”
He shrugged. “Nothing I can’t handle.”
“Good.” I dropped down the next few steps.
“What are you up to?”
I glanced over my shoulder at his curious expression. “We have a guest.”
“Who?”
“Red.”
He let go of the handle on his carry-on. “Fuck yeah. I’m dying for a fight.”
“We aren’t fighting.”
“Since when?” He raised an eyebrow and stripped off his jacket.
He had a point. We’d never gotten along with Red, even before the Acquisition.
“I need to see if he has any information about the trial. That comes first.”
“So we’re just going to take his shit?” Lucius shook his head.
“Of course not. Still, we will listen to what he has to say.”
He followed me down the stairs. “I can live with that, but if he pulls anything, I’ll knock his goddamn teeth out. Where’s Stella?”
“I just left her in her room. She’s getting dressed.”
His jaw tensed, and I felt a decidedly non-brotherly satisfaction in him knowing I spent the night with her.
Farns waited at the door in the foyer and swung it open before Red had a chance to knock. He barreled inside, his hair mussed, and with dark circles under his eyes.
“What the fuck, Red?” Lucius stepped ahead of me, already itching for confrontation.
“You.” He pointed at me. “I need to talk to you.”
I smirked. “It may shock you to know this, but there are phones for that very purpose.”
“Fucking prick.” Red stepped forward, and Lucius matched his advance until both men stood nose to nose.
“Let him through, Lucius. He can say what he came to say before we come to blows.”
I walked down the hall, feeling Red following at my heels as Lucius trapped him between us. “State your business, Red. I assume this isn’t a friendly visit.”
Turning into my study, I waved Red to a seat as Lucius closed the door behind us.
“Is that bitch here?” He looked around, as if Stella might be hiding in the drapes. My hands itched to crush his voice box, but I remained still and stared him down.
“Cut the shit. What do you want?” Lucius crossed his arms and leaned against the door.
“Evie.” Red turned his bloodshot eyes to me.
“What about her?” I sat on the sofa across from him.
“Promise me you won’t—you won’t—”
“Kill her if I win?” I finished for him. “I can’t promise that and you know it.”
“But I’ll promise I won’t kill your brother if I win.”
“That’s not really an issue for me. You aren’t going to win. I am.”
He shook. I couldn’t tell if it was from fear or rage. I hoped it was the former. “I know what you did at the last trial. I know it was you who caught her and brought her back.”
An icy trickle of unease slid down my spine, but I affected an air of nonchalance. “What of it?”
“I’m sure Cal would like to know of the rules violation.”
“I’m sure he would, too. Then what? I’d be disqualified?” I steepled my fingers and drew out the logical conclusion that he feared most. “You’d have to go up against Eagleton alone. Eagleton would win, obviously. You’re already coming apart, and your Acquisition broke in the first tria
l. Eagleton won’t cut a deal with you, but he will cut your sister’s head off and hand it to you by the hair.”
Red dry heaved and clapped a hand over his mouth.
“Vomit on this rug and you’re buying a new one, asshole.” Lucius curled his lip in distaste.
Red swallowed hard and tried to compose himself. “P-please. I have information.”
“Why this sudden urge to work together?” Lucius asked. “You’ve always been a royal fucking prick, and now, out of the blue, you want to be a helpful fucking prick instead? What changed?”
“What you said. Brianne is broken. She’s not strong enough. She’s not like your bi—”
“Call her a bitch, cunt, or anything other than Stella or Ms. Rousseau, and I can promise you, you will not like the results.” My words were calm and even, though my need to do violence increased with every syllable of weakness Red uttered.
“N-not like Stella. I can feel it. You are going to win. I know it. But if you do… I can’t close my eyes without seeing Evie dead, and I-I’m the one who…” He ran a shaking hand over his face.
“What’s the information?” Lucius walked over to stand behind Red. “What did you want to tell us?”
“Not until you promise. You have to promise me Evie’s life. Please.” He leaned forward, his hands clasped.
I glanced to Lucius. He shrugged. If Red told me and I won, my promise wouldn’t matter. I could kill Evie and kick Red’s family out of the aristocracy. Then again, I never broke my word.
“If I promise you that, and I win, they would rip me apart. The rules are clear. If I win, Evie has to die. No losing last born has ever lived past the coronation.”
“Fuck the goddamn rules!” He screamed, his voice raw and explosive.
I studied him as he took a deep breath, torment in every movement from the shake of his hands to the sorrowful look in his eyes.
“Please, Sin. Please. I can’t kill her. I can’t let you kill her. I’d rather die. I thought I had a chance to win. I thought I could save her myself. I can’t. I need you. Please.” He slid to his knees. “I’ll do anything you ask, give you whatever you want, just please—spare her.”