From his curse, I realize.
I clench my hands, torn between the desire to sneak out of this apartment and the bizarre urge I have to intervene. But even if I tried, I’m too weak at the moment to stop them from spilling more blood.
Silas starts chanting in fae, but Baelfire snarls as he loses his temper. He shoves Silas's hands aside, twists Silas’s shoulder under his arm, and wrenches it violently in the wrong direction. The loudcrackof a bone breaking makes me inhale sharply.
Silas hisses in pain, cradling his broken arm as he stumbles away, but Baelfire hears my gasp. His attention snaps up to me, and his eyes flare wide. In a blur of shifter speed, he’s abruptly right in front of me, his hands coming up like he’s about to try bracing my weak form against his muscular body.
“Don’t.”
I may be barely holding myself upright, but I can still use mydon’t fuck with mevoice. The one I perfected in the hellscape I was raised in.
Baelfire pulls his hands away but doesn’t move back, consuming me with his eyes like he’s sure I’m about to vanish. He looks rougher than I’ve ever seen him—his T-shirt and jeans scorched and torn, his golden hair a mess, and dark circles under his eyes, which are a deeper shade of amber than usual. Blood is smeared on his hands and arms and continues to drip from Silas’s forgotten crystal, still embedded in his arm.
“Maven,” he pleads raggedly, scanning my face.
I forcefully keep it blank, even though my chest pangs. I have the most irksome urge to feel his warm arms wrapped tightly around me. My stupid, exhausted body can’t seem to remember that I’d hate it if he actually did touch me.
His hands twitch toward me again, but he clenches them at his sides. “Fuck, baby, I know you must be pissed, but please just let me?—”
I step around him. I need to leave before I have to face my emotions, which are bubbling to the surface, but Silas steps in front of me. His ruby-red eyes are now focused, but the blood fae looks as exhausted as I feel and even paler than usual.
“I tried everything. How is your pain suddenly gone?”
“It’s not.”
I’m not lying. It’s painful being around them like this.
Silas’s face softens. His gaze drops to my chest, where a hole torn by my dagger remains, but the only scar to be seen is the one I’ve had for five years.
“You had no heartbeat. I thought I lost you.”
You can’t lose what you never wanted in the first place.
“Heartbeats are overrated,” I mumble instead.
When I try to step around him, he only moves closer, determination and something unbearably tender bleeding into his expression. Seeing that bit of tenderness sparks my temper. From some angry, petty part of my mind, Sierra’s sneering face comes back to me along with her words.
They might even fuck you once or twice out of pity. But make no mistake, they’re not yours.
My anger deepens, overshadowing the lingering hurt until I decide I need to get out of this apartment really fucking soon before I do something stupid.
Silas’s voice is soft. “We should talk?—”
“There is no we.”
“Yes, there is,” he says firmly. “I know you’re upset?—”
“You four used me as a dick-measuring contest, and you think I’mupset?That’s cute.” I arch a brow. “You can’t lie, so tell me yes or no. Was there a bet about who would fuck me first?”
His mouth opens and closes twice in a row before he swallows. “Yes, but?—”
“And prizes for whoever won?”
“Yes, but that was not?—”
“Congratulations,” I make my voice sickly sweet. “You won. Now go find a new plaything to fuck. I’m sure Sierra would happily volunteer to entertain the two of you. Again.”
Baelfire flinches and snarls, “You were not a fuckingplaything,and we are not touching anyone else. Ever. As far as I’m concerned, from now on, anyone who touches me is touching what belongs to you. We did make that stupid bet, but it was just a competition between rivals. We didn’t mean for you to?—”
