“Don’t worry, I shooed him off.”
Emmett’s shoulders drop in relief and he sits down on the edge of my bed.
“I was concerned. I had to make sure you were all right.”
I step closer to him, and he winds his arms around my waist and pulls me down on top of him.
“You seem all right,” he mutters into my ear, sending a shower of sparks down my spine.
“I’m all right now,” I whisper.
His hands grow needier, more insistent as they grip at my thighs and pull my nightdress up around my waist.
He rolls us so he’s spooning me from behind and lavishes kisses in a trail up my neck, then in the tender spot behind my ear.
I arch against him. “I’m tired of your teasing,” I sigh, my body aching for more, always more with Emmett.
“Oh, Ivy. It seems only fair.”
The voice makes me pause. Even the air in my lungs goes still with dread.
I know that voice.
And it’s not Emmett it belongs to.
I don’t want to look behind me, because I know the monster I will see there.
I gather all my bravery and turn.
Bram is in bed behind me, his hair rumpled, his shirt hanging off his tanned shoulders, his face absolutely enraged.
He sucks on his lower lip as he regards me.
I spring from bed and do nothing but stare at him, my breathing ragged.
“So, you’ll whore yourself out for my brother but not for your husband?” he asks, his voice icy with rage.
Hot tears spring to my eyes, but I won’t give him the satisfaction of crying in front of him. He might not understand love, but he is well acquainted with pain, and he gets so much satisfaction from mine.
“I—” I scramble for an explanation, for anything that will protect Emmett. I don’t care much what happens to me anymore, but I need him to be safe.
“I thought I was dreaming. You caught me half asleep.”
He tuts his tongue at me like a nursemaid. “You’ll have to do better than that. You’ve been in the Otherworld long enough that I thought you’d recognize a simple glamour.”
“It’s the truth. What do you know of human sleep?” The lie is thin and he sees right through it.
He laughs, and it’s like the rumble of a storm cloud on the horizon, dark and awful. “More than you, apparently.”
He rises from the bed and puts himself to rights.
As he smooths his hair, he walks toward the door. “We’re going to have such fun at the next trial.”
“Divorce me,” I beg. “Let me go home. Punish me in any way you see fit, but leave my sister and Emmett out of this.”
If I thought it would make a difference, I would drop to my knees in front of him and beg.
He doesn’t break stride. “What fun would that be?” he says, and slams the door behind him.
