Page 43 of Reign

Elena’s gaze drops to the space between us. Offense flashes first. Then confusion.

She wanted me to stay.

The knowledge gives me a dark little satisfaction I have no right to enjoy.

“Elena.”

Her eyes snap back to mine.

“Enjoy the rest of your evening.”

Then I turn away before temptation outruns judgment.

I don’t look back.

If she’s as bold as I think she is, I won’t need to.

Chapter 9

Elena

Fucking Santo.

I watch Luciano walk away, his broad shoulders disappearing through the crowd like this meant nothing.

Like I meant nothing.

The thought lands too fast, too sharp, and the worst part is that it lands at all. He’s a stranger. A man with pretty eyes, a dangerous mouth, and my name still warm on his tongue. He shouldn’t have the power to make my chest feel hollow just because he walked away.

I hate that he does.

I hate it enough to turn all of it on my brother.

I whirl on Santo. “Where the fuck is your wife?”

His eyes darken. “Excuse me?”

His voice lowers in that way that makes other people remember they enjoy breathing. But he’s my big brother, and I genuinely don’t care if his little alter, Scythe, wants to crawl out and fight me in the middle of Angelo’s wedding reception.

I’m not one of his soldiers.

I’m not one of his enemies.

And I’m sure as hell not one of his strays.

“Where the fuck is your wife?“ I repeat, stepping closer. “I’d like your ass put back on the leash.”

Santo’s jaw flexes.

For one second, I think he might actually snap at me.

Then his fingers close around my wrist.

Hard.

Enough to remind me he could snap.

Enough to remind me that love in this family always seems to arrive with a hand around something—a wrist, a throat, a choice, a door.