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"We play the part in public. We sell it."

My heartbeat picks up a little bit at his words.

"But when we're alone, it's like this, A professional relationship. No matter what I do or say, or how we act to keep you alive in public, it doesn't mean anything. Do you understand?"

"Of course," I say easily, still slightly delighted by the idea of play-acting as a couple in love. Considering how gorgeous Lachlan is, it's not exactly going to be a hardship to pretend to be besotted with him. "I feel like we should have a backstory, though," I say, scratching my chin and wiggling my eyebrows.

He grins, but it quickly turns into a grimace. "I'm gonna regret this, aren't I?"

"Why would you do that?" I say. "I'm darling and wonderful, and I promise to be an excellent fiancée to you. The best fiancée."

"They're going to expect us to be married eventually," he says gruffly, not finding me amusing at all. Which stings, but is to be expected considering the gravity of what we're actually discussing.

"Listen, if you don't want to do this, I'll figure it out," I say, suddenly getting cold feet of my own.

"It doesn't have anything to do with what I want," he says. "I swore an oath to keep you safe. And as far as I can tell, this is probably the best way to do it. We'll take it day by day. And remember that none of what happens between us means anything."

"Right. Yep," I say, nodding my head swiftly. "So what do we gotta do to make it official?"

I rub my hands together fiendishly, grinning up at him like this is all some grand joke, ignoring the bitterness coating my throat at the idea of forcing this giant man to enter into a relationship with me on fear of my death.

I'm using him, just like Cole used me.

And it makes me feel like a fucking monster.

Seventeen

Lachlan

Vivienne’s scent has changed. Fear and shame cloud her usual addictive aroma, and I stare down at her, confused by the sudden shift.

Maybe she already knows just how low it would be for someone in her position to stoop to be betrothed to someone like me.

"So how do we do this?" she asks.

Her scent hasn't changed, despite the bright smile stretched across her face.

"I'm only doing it if you're sure about it," I tell her.

"Well, I'm only doing it if you're sure about it," she responds, shifting her weight impatiently, her hands moving to her hips. Defiant. Fiery.

Not falling in love with her is going to be the hardest thing I've ever done in my life. But it's also the thing that will give her the best chance at staying alive. So I'll do it without a second thought.

"It's simple," I tell her. "Take out the dagger we bought."

"Which one?" she asks.

"Either," I tell her. "It just needs to be sharp. It doesn't have to be a specific dagger."

"Okay. I don't have to stab you or anything, do I?"

I let out a low laugh. "You think I'd let you stab me?"

I would. I would let her stab me. I grit my teeth to keep the words from coming out. Our job tonight is going to be hard enough without the knowledge of our mate bond, unsealed, hanging over her. Pretending to be in love with her will be the easiest thing in the world. How could anyone not love her?

"Is it gonna hurt?" she asks as she nervously unstraps one of the daggers from the sheaths on her thighs.

She fails, her fingers fumbling over the leather, and I kneel before her. She goes still as I run my fingertips over her thigh, easily unbuckling the enchanted dagger from its harness. I flip it in my hand easily, holding the handle out to her. Her cheeks are pink, and I'm more than pleased to note the shame dogging her scent has disappeared, replaced by the warm, spiced scent of her arousal.