“What does it matter?” I said, spinning around to fully face Kenton, my cold feet padding toward him across equally chilly stone. “You’ve got me. There’s nothing I can do. I can’t escape. So why not let me wander about in my extended cage for a little bit while I can? Because you know, I don’t have much longer before…” I drew a fingertip across my neck and made a croaking noise as I tipped my head sideways, poking out my tongue and slackening my features as if I was dead.
Something wounded flickered in Caidan’s gaze.
Quiet.
It was so quiet.
Good.
Their unease stirred in the air. Some inner part of me grasped they knew all of this was wrong, but then they shored themselves up with resolute glances at one another. To save myself, I needed to find a slender fracture within the brothers and hammer it into a crevasse.
A dazzling smile broke across my face as I shimmied my shoulders. “You want me to be in peak condition for my auction, right?” I raised a foot and flexed my toes. “All I’m doing is stretching my legs while I still have them.”
Curiously, the sound of Jett’s combat boots thudded through the room as he approached head-on. I braced myself and held my ground. He tilted his head, his long hair pulled back into a messy man-bun, staring at me with cruel eyes and a razor-thin smile. Of all the brothers, his hostility was visceral. “I agree. It’ll be a lot more fun with her out mingling.”
I wanted to gag at the small smile I gave him. I didn’t know why he agreed so readily with me, I’d expected more of a fight. But I’d take hisassistance, even though I knew he was up to something.
From the side, I heard Graysen ask Kenton in his usual bored-as-fuck tone, “What do you want?”
“It’s time to get some new ink.”
New ink…
My gaze slid over Graysen’s arms, braced on either side of where he leaned his ass against the table. One of his arms displayed a full sleeve of Ukkenskrit and wyrmfire, while the other was inked to his elbow. The tiny Ukkenskrit script detailed the Crowthers’ personal history, their conquests in particular. Obviously, it was my tale they were going to ink on his body…theirbodies since it was a joint effort.
Jett smoothed a hand down his silky navy shirt before lifting his arm to rotate it and show me his ink-free forearm. “It’ll look good,” he purred. “Probably one of the more impressive tales. Taking down a wyrm… How fucking cool is that?”
I knew he was taunting me to retaliate. I knew it, yet I couldn’t stop my gaze from narrowing and becoming stormy. My body tensed, ready for a fight. Sage too, with a low rumble coming from his throat as he reacted to my blustering anger.
Just in time, I caught myself…
Calm, calm,calm…
Jett wanted me to give him a reason to hate me further.
But I think it was more than that. He neededto feel justified in what they were going to do. Theyallneeded it, I realized, as I swept my gaze over them, watching them survey me, cold and heartless. All they saw was a spoiled princess. Someone pampered. The girl who was saved instead of their mother. And here I was about to meet fire with fire. But what if I were to douse it?
I needed them to see me as a human. A person—just like them.
What’s more, I had to get to know them all to discover their weaknesses to take advantage.
Blowing out a steady breath, I arranged my expression into neutrality as if I didn’t care that they’d tell their tale of how they’d captured me and permanently score it on their skin.“Just be sure to spell my name right. W.Y.C.H.T.H.O.R.N,” I instructed airily, turning to drift closer to the fire.
Judging by the way Jett’s jaw flexed, he didn’t like that I hadn’t taken his bait. “Instead of playing babysitter, we need to get back to work,” he snapped at Graysen.
“Jett,” Caidan warned, but there was something else running in his tone. Concern.
Jett rolled his eyes and lifted a shoulder as if to say—whatever.He half-twisted away, wincing slightly and rubbing the back of his hand across his forehead. I swore the muted light glanced off beads of sweat that coated his furrowed brow, but I wasn’t sure.
“We’ve got a meeting with Yoran tomorrow,” Kenton added, dragging my attention from Jett to the eldest brother, as he slid a hand into the pocket of his slacks. “He wants another syndicate to take over from the Widowmakers, and later on we need to shadow the shipment the Troelsens are bringing in for the Witches Ball.”
Shipment. Mortals.Peoplethe witches would feast upon before the Ball even began, when they started gathering in numbers for the event.
Graysen’s grip on the wooden table beneath him was white-knuckled, and I heard the groan of wood, the crack and splintering. He suddenly moved, shifting his footing, and the soles of his boots scraped along the stone, hiding the sound of breaking wood. But I caught the dust and wooden slivers sprinkling down beneath the table.
He bowed his head slightly, the shadows of the locks of ruffled hair shielding him from his brothers’ sight. He pushed off, rising, and assumed a wide-legged stance. If he’d been angry, it was wiped carefully away.
Give them what they want to see.
