And Shiloh?
No matter what I thought when I first saw her, she’s not nice either. She’s strong, and irritatingly good at her job, and sexy as fuck. She’s also a selfish ass for coming all over my thigh and then walking away as if she has no intention of doing it again.
We’ll see about that.
“Monroe.”
I paste a cheery smile on my face as I spin on my heel. Harlow Byrne strides down the hall in my direction. She’s attractive in an understated kind of way. Strong body with curves that might be tempting if they were attached to anyone else. Hair that’s been dyed a subtler red than is found in the Mystic faction. I’ve seen her fight a few times before she and Eli Walsh started dating; she’s a hell of a bitch in the arena. I can take her, but it wouldn’t be an easy victory.
She’s effectively queen of the Raider faction now. Abel took her as his Bride, but unlike the rest of us, he’s made it pretty damn clear that she’s at his side as an equal. The little prick I feel when I look at her is irritation, of course. It certainly isn’t jealousy. I don’t need to be seen as on the same level as Broderick, not when I’m leagues above him. “Harlow. What a lovely surprise.”
“Liar,” she says it easily, not bothered in the least. I hate to say it, but she’s damn good at her job, and she manages all the Brides expertly. She’s the reason I’m able to go home during the day to work—and avoid any ambitious Amazons getting funny ideas about who’s really heir. She’s also the reason I’ve been on what passes for my best behavior.
With everyone but Broderick, of course.
Harlow falls into step beside me. “What happened today?”
“I’m not sure what you’re speaking of.”
She shoots me a look. “Does anyone every actually believe that innocent tone coming from you?”
“There’s always a first time.” From the stubborn set of her shoulders, she’s not going to let this go. I bite back a sigh. “It’s personal.”
“Between you and Broderick.”
“Between me and Shiloh.”
She raises her brows but finally nods. “Shiloh’s greatly beloved by Abel’s people. Watch your step. If you toy with her and make her cry, you’re going to have every single one of the Paines and all their followers howling for your blood.”
“I’ll take that into consideration.” The funny thing? I don’t plan on making Shiloh cry. Making her orgasm until she passes out? Definitely. But the only person I want to sink a dagger into and twist is Broderick. Even the other Paine brothers pale in comparison for the fury I feel for him. Sure, Abel beating one of our champions is the reason I’m a Bride, but that was a fair fight. I might not like the outcome, but I can respect it.
Broderick? I want him on his knees, crawling and broken. I want it with a strength that surpasses reason. It’s not because he’s rejected me. It’s because he’s a fucking liar and hypocrite. I can’t stand either. Really, I’m determined to make him suffer on principle. I’m practically obligated to do it.
She looks like she wants to say something else but finally shrugs. “I’ll be checking in with the Brides again in a few days. Let me know if you need anything in the meantime.”
“I’m good.” I’ve made a few requests to Harlow for various things, and she’s filled every single one without question or complaint. It would almost be enough to make me like her if we weren’t from rival factions that have hated each other since the dawn of Sabine Valley. She’d make one hell of an Amazon.
“See you in a couple days.”
“Harlow.” I speak without thinking. “I’d like to see my sister and uncle. Without the other Brides.”
Her expression goes careful. “You’ll be required to have at least one of our people present.”
“Your people.” I can’t help needling her, just a little. “How quickly you cleave to the Paine way of life. Abel must be one hell of a fuck.”
“No comment.” She doesn’t blink. “Agree, or it’s off.”
“Agreed.” It’s not as if the Paine brothers and their people aren’t already watching my every step.
“Good.” Harlow nods. “It’s getting late, so it won’t be tonight, but I’ll see what I can do about tomorrow. I’ll send for you when it’s arranged.”
No doubt the meeting will include the fancy tea setup she favors. For someone so badass, Harlow sure loves that tea cart and forcing us all to drink that shit. It’s actually pretty good, but I’ll never admit it. “Works for me.”
We parts ways when the hall branches, her heading downstairs and me heading to the room that’s become mine. I was never meant for captivity. If it weren’t for the daily trips to the Amazon faction and tower, I’d be going out of my mind by now.