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Possessiveness.
I shiver as he slowly turns to level his cold gaze at Damian. “Watch your fucking tone,” he growls, his voice low, full of warning.
Damian takes a step forward, his body tensing, ready for a fight. He and Mal are roughly the same size. And while Mal wears his savageness and his fury on his sleeve, Damian’s is hidden in a way that’s insidiously disarming.
He stops when he’s nose to nose with Mal, his purplish eyes narrowing darkly.
“If you think I’m going to stand here and let you treat her like some?—”
“Finish that fucking sentence,” Mal hisses, “and I’ll break your fucking jaw.”
“That’s enough!” I snap, surging across the room and getting between them before things get any worse. The air between them is electric, charged with all the tension that’s been buildingsince the moment Damian walked through that door. “Both of you!” I bark loudly. “Stop!”
Neither of them backs down. They just glare at each other. Mal’s possessiveness is written all over him—in his body language, in the way he stands just behind me, ready to tear Damian apart if he makes the wrong move. And Damian, always so protective of me, is staring Mal down with barely contained fury.
“I’m not letting this happen, Frey,” Damian hisses, his voice tight with frustration. “Not withhim.”
The dangerous calm in Mal’s eyes sending a shiver through me. “I don’t recall that you have any fucking say in what she does,” he growls.
“Like hell I?—”
“STOP IT!” I scream, turning to shove Damian back. “Mal’s right, you don’t,” I snap. “If I start shooting up heroin or going on killing sprees, then yes, you have permission to intervene in my life.” I throw a quick look at Mal, then turn back to Damian. “But not for this.”
Damian’s eyes turn a supernatural shade of purplish fire. “Frey, are you fuckingkidding mewith this fucking psycho?—”
“Enough!” I yell again, this time whirling to plant my hands on Mal’s bare chest, pushing him back before he attacks Damian, trying to stop the situation from spiraling completely out of control.
I mean, it’s already almost there.
My eyes lock with Mal’s, asking him tostop. His jaw grinds, his eyes drawing to ice-cold blue slits. But he nods his chin curtly, and I feel the tension in his body abate under my touch.
I swallow, turning back to my brother.
“Damian,” I say quietly. “I’m sorry you found out like this. But thisisn’tyour call.”
His eyes flick to mine, and I can see the hurt and frustration behind them. He’s always been protective of me—sometimes too much—but I know this is more than that. He’s angry, confused, and probably worried that I’m making a huge mistake.
A week ago, I might have agreed with him.
Not anymore.
“I’m a grown woman,” I say, my voice calm but firm. “I can make my own decisions.”
Damian’s jaw tightens, and for a moment, I think he’s going to argue. But then he exhales sharply, shaking his head. “Fine. Do what you want, Freya.”
He turns and strides away, leaving the tension between us hanging heavy in the air. I feel a pang of guilt twist in my chest, but before I can dwell on it, Mal pulls me close, his arm around my waist.
“You don’t owe him an explanation,” Mal mutters low in my ear.
I lean into him, my body instinctively responding to the heat between us, but my mind is spinning.
This is a mess. And it’s only going to get worse.
The dining roomat Kenzo’s mansion is alive with conversation, but you can already feel the tension, even though neither Damian or Mal is even in the room yet. It’s so thick it’s like an invisible storm cloud hanging over the table, and I can feel the weight of it pressing down on me as I take my seat.
…A seat I’veverydiplomatically selected, with Annika’s help.
In the last few hours, I’ve come clean with my best friend. Again, not that Ioweanyone anything. But I felt like I should put cards on the table. So we sat by one of the koi ponds, and I told her everything.
