Can I trust that?
When he sees me, Jericho pauses halfway through closing the door. His shoulders lower slightly, eyes darting down and away. And I realize Evan is right. Jericho is ashamed of what he is.
My muscles still scream for me to run, to get as far away from him as I can, but I choose not to. I stay—leaning into Rowen maybe and shaking like a leaf, but I’m still here.
Baby steps, right?
Rowen bumps me a little. “You okay?”
I don’t answer him. I honestly don’t know.
“I found it,” Jericho says, placing something on the table. “I told you. It’s unrelated.”
Taren rushes over, snagging the paper with wide eyes. After scanning it, her shoulders slump. “Dammit.”
Rowen walks over. “What is it?”
“Just a receipt from the club. Taren thought the logo might have something to do with…” Jericho pauses, looking at me.
A few more heads turn, as if someone had turned a bright light on me.
Taren sighs. “I thought their logo might have something to do with Tobias’ mark,” she says plainly. “But their website is gone. They removed all evidence of the club from the internet. So I couldn’t be sure without seeing it.”
My heart skitters. My mark?
Jericho shakes his head. “I told you. Foxx bought the club from someone else. They’re unrelated.”
“Yeah. I guess so.”
I walk toward a stack of books on the floor by the window, noting a few sketches spread out across the table. My heart thuds wildly, blood draining from my face. Two of them look similar to the brand on my shoulder. “What is this?”
Taren presses a hand to her chest. “We’ve been trying to understand your mark.”
Fear slices through me.Are they using me to get to the coven?Is that all this is?
My fingers tighten around my arm, right over the place where the mark burns faintly beneath the fabric. “You’restudyingme?” I snap.
“We just want to know what it’s about,” Taren says. “So we know if it’s dangerous or—”
I yank my shirt down over my shoulder. “This? You want to know about this?” Taren’s eyes go wide, but I continue. “You want to know how two months ago, Rip drugged me and painted this on my shoulder with his blood? How Orem used his magic to seal it? Is that what you want to know? Heburnedit into me. He told me—Orem told me it will never go away. That I, for as long as I am alive,belongto him.”
“To who?” Grant asks.
“Rip. I’mhis.”
“His… what, exactly?”
I shake my head. “I don’t even know. He never explained it or gave me a choice in the matter. Just said it made me his. From then on, only Rip drank from me. He treated me like I was his… pet. Or servant. Whatever. But I never left that stage except to pee or shower.”
For a long moment, everyone is silent, their expressions grim and deeply alarmed.
“He created it with blood?” Taren asks, sounding horrified.
I pull my shirt up, avoiding everyone’s gaze now. “Yes.”
Her small hand clenches into a fist. “Does it hurt you? Or have control over you?”
“No. It hasn’t done a damn thing except burn all the time.”
