The Beast (Wicked Villains 4)

I really don’t like being the submissive in this scenario.

Dinner is a subdued event. The food is amazing, but then Hook always had a knack for putting together a meal. I still circle around to his and Tink’s place once every couple of weeks for dinner and some friendly fucking. If Isabelle chooses me, that’s out of the question for obvious reasons.

If she doesn’t choose me, I’m going to need Hook and Tink more than ever.

I’m a morose fucker tonight, but I can’t shake the feeling adding weight to my skin. Even with all the emotional bullshit to wade through, it’s too good with Isabelle and Beast. It doesn’t feel like getting her out of my system. In fact, it’s the exact opposite. It feels like I’ve invited him in, too, like both these people are digging deep enough to rip me to shreds when this pact reaches its inevitable conclusion.

I start in on dishes because I need to keep my hands busy. It doesn’t do a damn thing to help my spiraling thoughts, but it’s still better than sitting still. No matter how intently I try to distract myself, I’m still aware of Isabelle padding into my bedroom and the shower turning on. I’m equally aware of Beast taking up a position at my back, leaning against the counter across from the sink.

I brace, but he doesn’t start in on me the way I expect. Instead, he lets loose a nearly soundless sigh and grabs a towel from the drawer. “You wash, I’ll dry.”

No point in arguing. It’s not one I’ll win, and while there are times when the act of fighting is enough, tonight isn’t one of them. We wash and dry the dishes, and with his help, it takes far less time than I’d like. Then there’s nothing to do but turn to face him.

I study his expression, but there’s no evidence that he’s feeling anywhere near as conflicted as I am. “This was a mistake.”

“Was it?”

“Don’t do that.”

He raises his brows. “Don’t do what?”

“Don’t act like this is such a simple situation.” I haven’t had the urge to punch that perfect face in longer than I care to admit, but I kind of want to punch him right now. “She didn’t reject you before. Fuck, she’s so wrapped up in you, she can’t see straight. So forgive me if I’m not exactly elated to know that at the end of this, I’ll be the one left hanging in the wind.”

I expect him to gloat a little. To confirm what I’ve seen with my own two eyes. Fuck, maybe even to laugh a little in that dry way of his.

Instead he stares at me like he wants to shake some sense into me. “You think she didn’t reject me? We didn’t last a month after you walked away. Even when we weren’t a true triad, we didn’t work without you there to balance us.”

“We aren’t a true triad, Beast. That’s the whole fucking point.”

He opens his mouth, but seems to change his mind at last minute. “You’re borrowing trouble and it’s going to drag down the rest of our time together if you’re determined to be so focused on the end.”

Why is he being so intentionally naive? It’s not a word I would have dreamed to apply to this man, but there’s no other way to describe it. He’s too smart to believe the shit he’s spewing. “It’s not like it’s a year-long pact, Beast. It’s fewer than two weeks. The end is already in sight. It was the second we agreed to this.”

His jaw goes hard. “Will you or will not you not honor it?”

I draw myself up, ready to fight if only to expel this poisonous feeling worming through my chest and stomach. “Maybe I should make it easy and walk right now. Clear the way for you.”

Beast steps to me, getting right in my face despite the difference in our heights. “I thought you loved Isabelle.”

“I do. I did.”

His eyes freeze over and his voice gains a cruel edge. “Some marriage you would have given her if you’re ready to run scared at the first sign of trouble. Did you really want forever, or did you just want the prize?”

“Fuck you.”

He lowers his voice. “Get your head in the game, Gaeton. This isn’t about just us anymore, and you being all up in your feelings is going to get someone killed. It’s going to get Isabelle killed.”

Low blow to throw that in my face, but he’s not wrong. I drag my hand through my hair. “How is this not fucking you up, too?”

“How is what not fucking me up?”

“Don’t play coy, Beast. You know what is. The pact. Us. All of it.”

“Us …” He carefully places his hands on the counter on either side of me, his expression going predatory in a way that makes my stomach leap. “Did you ever think about it before?”