Separate bedrooms. Separate responsibilities. Separate lives.
Hisbedroom would always belong to Dahlia, even after she left his life. No other woman would sleep between his sheets or curl up amongst his pillows.
It never occurred to him to think he might get lucky enough to keep her there.
His fingers itched to trace every inch of her. The fall of her golden hair over the cream pillowcase and the gentle slope of her bare shoulder peeking out from beneath the blankets made his mouth water.
Fucking her wasn’t enough. It’d never be enough. He needed everything she had to give.
He’d always had a greedy heart. Felix was rarely satisfied, his restless ambition always jumping to the next goal, the next challenge. It was the thrill of winning that spurred him on. Every prize only made him hungrier for a bigger, better score.
Nothing was bigger or better than having Dahlia McKnight as his blood bride.
It was so good that it was literally unimaginable. He wasn’t one for believing in miracles, but it was hard to see it as anything but.
The object of his obsession had been neatly packaged into his perfect bride. Now she’d never escape him.
Felix forced himself away from the bed and into his closet, where he found a new shirt to replace the one his girl had ruined. A fond smile curved his mouth at the memory, but it came with a small pang of worry that sped his steps toward the door.
As much as it pained him to leave her, he forced himself out into the hall. He doubted he’d be back any time soon. Sleep would have to wait. There were too many arrangements to make.
The Bowans would know about his little heist soon, if they didn’t already, and they all had to be ready for what would come when the inevitable demand for her handover was refused.
They’d handle it. The new generation of Amauris — his cousins — had seen him through the war against the old guard and that viper, Yvanna. They’d come out of it stronger than they’d gone in, their bonds and loyalty solidified by spilled blood. They could take a few Bowans.
What concerned him most at that moment wasn’t the fact that he’d stolen Alastair’s daughter, but her care. Tough as she was, Dahlia had clearly been through too much. He’d barely been able to get her out of the bath before she passed out, her too-thin body exhausted even after she forced down a bottle of synth.
Felix didn’t do well with worry. He did much better with lists. Tasks. Logical steps leading to a clear end point.
So he made his list as he stalked to his office, where Milo and his half-brother Luis were waiting for him.
Their gazes immediately landed on the vicious little marks Dahlia left on his neck and collar. He’d deliberately left more buttons of his shirt undone than usual just to show them off.
Luis, the older of the pair, let out a low whistle. He sat in one of the low leather chairs arrayed around a glass coffee table, his long legs spread and his tattooed arms draped over the armrests. Like usual, he looked like he couldn’t care less what was going on, but Felix knew him too well to buy it.
“That was fast,” he chuckled. His smile was bright white against his golden skin. “She must be something. I can’t wait to meet her.”
Felix held up a finger as he strode to his desk at the far end of the room. “Watch it, shithead. That’smybride.”
Luis had always liked danger a little too much. It was allegedly part of his charm, and also why he teased, “I don’t see a bite yet. I might still have a chance.”
Milo stood against one tall bookshelf, his big body stiff and his frown thunderous. “YouwantFelix to kill you?”
“I could probably take him,” Luis glibly replied, waving one scarred hand in his half-brother’s direction.
“Trust me when I say that even if you managed to kill me — and you’d have to — you wouldn’t be able to handle Dahlia.” Felix sat heavily in his desk chair. His skin crawled with the urgency to get back to her, and even though he knew for a fact Luis was only joking, a wave of possessiveness made him grind his teeth.
I like Luis,he reminded himself.He makes me a lot of money. It’d be annoying if he died in a mysterious, gruesome accident.
Like he could see the murder in his eyes, Milo let out a put-upon sigh and meandered over to the chairs in front of his desk. Though he was the younger sibling, Milo seemed to always place himself between Luis and danger — in this case, Felix.
Luis propped his feet up on the coffee table like the animal he was. “Is she the little secret you’ve been keeping?”
“She’s mine,” he answered shortly. It was all he or anybody needed to know.
Milo leaned his elbows on his knees. “Are you sure she’s neutral?”
The gland in the roof of his mouth pulsed with renewed fury. Felix snorted. “Yeah, I’m pretty fucking sure. Just standing next to her makes it feel like my fangs are going to explode.”
