Reaper shakes his head, like he’s clearing the images of what Rune may do to me from his thoughts, and hooks his thumbs in the belt loops of his fatigues, but remains silent. After a heartbeat, he nods, his shoulders slumping.
They aren’t lying. They aren’t lying.
This is a test.
One I’m failing.
“What do you think Rune will do if he finds out about your intimate relationship with Cora?” Fallon asks.
“He’ll use her against me,” I whisper, knowing it’s true. I meet his stony gaze, making sure he can see every ounce of hatred burning through me. “Rune will threaten Cora if he finds out.”
“So is it true, then?” Fallon asks. “You eat her pussy.”
I wince at the blatant and intentionally obscene words. Coming from him, they feel dirty, staining my love for Cora and making it cheap.
“That sickness must be hereditary,” Fallon says. My nails dig into my palms as I envision ripping my knife from my boot and stabbing it through his neck. “It must run in your blood, that perversion.”
“You’re the only perverted thing in this room,” I snap.
“Yet, I’m not the one fucking my sister knowing I’m being recorded.”
Horror eats at my stomach like rats. My breath rushes from my lungs. “I know what you’re doing,” I say slowly, trying to settle my mind. This no longer feels like he’s preparing me to face Rune. This feels personal.
“Do you?” Fallon asks. He glances at Reaper briefly, then back at me, malice darkening the bright, clear color of his eyes. His tone turns sugary and slick. Grotesque. “Tell me, Delilah daughter of Rune, does your little sister taste sweet?”
“Shut your fucking mouth,” I seethe.
A cruel smile curls his lip. “I’ll take that as a yes. You like fucking her. Just like Daddy.”
Even though I know they are designed to rattle me, his words hit their mark. I bolt from the chair so fast it tilts back and clatters to the floor.
“I’m nothing like him!” I scream, hands fisting the hem of my sweater, pulling at the material, trying to stop myself from tearing him apart.
“You used her. Just like your father does.”
“That’s not true,” I snap.
The way a sneer cuts across his face makes the next words hit sharper. Crueler. “The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree, Delilah Gavin. Like father, like daughter.”
I react before I can think, and lunge for him. The sharp sound of flesh meeting flesh slices through the room, Fallon’s head snapping to the side from the impact of my hand hitting his face. I pull my hand away, curling my fingers into my stinging palm as red blooms on his cheek. When Fallon turns his icy eyes back to me, I don’t shrink back. That creature they created, the feral, desperate thing born of lust and grit and anger takes full control, until I’m nothing but unbridled animal rage.
Fallon’s hand drops to his belt.
“Father,” Viper says, attempting to move between us, but Reaper shoves him back.
“I’ll deal with her,” Reaper says. He grips my arm, and all that red molten heat churning in my veins, mixes with exhaustion, with fear and doubt, and detonates.
My vision blurs. The angry cry that rips from my throat is pure, untamed wrath driven by desperation.
To protect. Defend.
Todestroy.
My fist lands in his gut. He grunts, letting me go.
“Get a handle on her,” Fallon orders.
Reaper grasps my wrists in a brutal grip, but I kick, hitting his shin, and he releases me with a growl. Viper shoots forward and grips the back of my neck.
