“Exactly!” I sprang up, nearly tripping over my discarded boots. “Whoever tossed her into our yard like a used napkin didn’t stick around for cocktails. That’s not how you send a political pawn. That’s how you dump evidence and hope it doesn’t float.”
Cas’ pacing stuttered. For a split second, I saw it, the crack in his control. The same flinch he’d had at seven, when Lucian first called us “strategic assets” instead of sons.
“Cas, come on.” Koa leaned forward. “We’ve always shared everything. We even talked about it before and thought it’d happen like this, if it happened at all—”
“I am not talking about sharing! I’m good with sharing! It has nothing to do with sharing!” Cas whirled, ponytail swinging like a whip. “What if she’snotthe bride? What if she’s a maid Father hired to work here? Worse, what if she’s a maidArabesquehired? What if our real bride shows up while our beloved is here? What if this is a trap to make us violate the truce? What if—”
I smacked the back of his head, and he spun, eyes blazing.
“What the hell?”
“Congratulations!” I spread my arms wide. “You’ve just won ‘Most Creative Self-Sabotage by a Control Freak!’ Collect your prize!” I yanked another pillow off the couch and whacked him in the face with it. “A one-way ticket off Bullshit Island.”
Ko muffled a laugh into his fist as Cas glared at the pillow like it owed him money.
“This isn’t—”
“She’s. Our. Beloved,” I cut in, dropping the smirk. “Truce or no truce, vampire diplomacy or Arabesque’s mind games, none of it changes the fact that every time I look at her, my heart—”
My throat cinched too tightly to say it.
Silence.
“We protect what’s ours.” Ko stood, rolling his shoulders. “End of story.”
Cas opened his mouth, probably to argue about protocols or vampire law or whatever, but I jabbed a finger at him.
“Nuh-uh. Save the fang-rotted politics lecture. We’re not rejecting her to play nice with Pops’ enemies.”
“He’s not going to reject her, Z. He can’t anymore than we can.” Ko stepped between us, a human shield in a plain gray tee. “He’s saying that our beloved is Arabesque’s first move on the chessboard, and we need to be ready for what comes next. Use that head to do more than grow fireweed on.”
“Bro!” I scoffed. “I offer charm, tactical brilliance, and exceptional cheekbones. But nooo, it’s always a jibe at the hair.”
Meanwhile, my brain was running on all cylinders. It took a minute, maybe five, but I got there in the end.
Free of the vampire court, we were immune to the truce, yeah, but that meant it was true onArabesque’sside, too. She could mess with us to her heart’s content and not violate the terms of the treaty.
That pissed me off.
“She wants a moon-damned war?” My eyes darted from Ko to Cas. “Fine. She’s got one. But shedoesn’tget our girl.”
“Never,” Ko agreed.
“We need intel,” Cas sighed. “It’s crucial to our planning to know if our beloved is our bride.”
“There’s my favorite pessimist!” I grinned, slinging an arm around his stiff shoulders.
“You’re insufferable.” He shrugged me off, but the corner of his mouth twitched.
“And yet you love me.” Ducking as he swatted at my head, I waved a hand toward the kitchen. “C’mon. Let’s brainstorm over snacks. I vote for nachos.”
Ko took off, calling dibs on guacamole. Cas lingered by the stairs, gaze flicking upward to where our lady slept. For a heartbeat, his mask slipped to show raw fear, sharp as shattered glass. Then he straightened his cuffs and marched after Ko, already dictating a toppings list.
As they bickered about jalapeños, my chest tightened. Three bastard dhampirs. One broken bride. And a furry protector with very sharp things at five of his six ends.
Best. Rom-com. Ever.
#
