I could feel my Fangs watching, could feel their terror radiating off them in waves. They'd seen me kill for less. They'd watched me execute men who'd merely disappointed me.
And here was Reo, bloody and beaten, openly admitting he'd defied me. Daring me to send him to the flames.
My hand trembled in his hair.
Not from rage.
From something worse.
He means it. He would do it. Walk straight into the fire if I commanded it.
The realization cracked something open in my chest.
Because I couldn't.
Couldn't watch Reo burn.
Couldn't lose him.
This man who'd been my shadow for years. My conscience. My brother in everything but blood. The one person who told me the truth even when the truth could get him killed.
Especiallywhen it could get him killed.
Goddamn it.
Slowly, I released his hair.
Stepped back.
The silence stretched, thick and suffocating.
Reo straightened with a wince, one hand pressed against his ribs. Blood still dripped from his chin and spotted the polished floor.
He didn't wipe it away.
Didn't try to compose himself.
He just watched me.
Waiting.
"Reo. . .if you ever go behind my back again—if you ever make a decision about my Tiger without my permission—I will not stop. Do you understand me?” I leaned my head to the side. “I will not stop."
He held my gaze. "Understood."
"Now tell me." I stepped closer, and he held his ground even though it clearly cost him. "Was it worth it? This test of yours? This lesson you decided she needed to learn?"
Blood bubbled at the corner of his mouth when he spoke, "I have one request.”
“What?”
“Ask me that at the end of the day when she's still here. When she's still choosing you. Ask me then."
You smug son of a bitch.
I wanted to hit him one more time. Instead, I turned and walked down the hallway.
My knuckles throbbed. I could feel Reo's blood drying in the creases of my fingers, tight and tacky. The skin over my right hand was already swelling—I'd hit him harder than I'd meant to.
