Page 45 of Glutton for Punishment

Good.

At least I’m not the only one losing control here.

His eyes drag over me, taking in everything—the damage, the fading brand on my arm—and something in his expression darkens. There’s the Maddox I know.

“Who did this to you?”

My chest tightens before I can stop it, but I roll my shoulders anyway, lifting my chin like I didn’t just melt into him two seconds ago.

“I’m fine,” I say. “We can discuss it later.”

I eye the surrounding guards, questioning if I trust them with any of this information.

His jaw flexes, like he’s biting back about ten different responses. Behind me, I can feel Atticus shifting closer.

His quiet, controlled presence at my back that feels different from Maddox’s heat. Where Maddox is all instinct and fire, Atticus is precision.

Maddox’s eyes flash up to Atticus as an array of feelings crosses his face that I can now not only see but feel.

Surprise. Confusion.

Anger. An anger that runs deep. I know that something that could go very wrong, very fast. A ticking time bomb surrounding me.

If Maddox is the kind of danger that explodes—Atticus is the kind that waits.

Maddox steps back, gaining control over his features and looks around, realizing we have an audience.

“The guards will take you to some available rooms. I’m sure you’ll want to clean up and get yourself patched up. I’ll have one of my men bring you some healing potions. Then you’ll meet me for dinner, and we will discuss this. All of it,” he says clipped.

He turns and whispers something to Lucas before walking away without looking back.

Chapter 14

Arwen

Dinner is… tense. I’m lucky I made it to dinner at all considering how many times they both dropped by my room to check on the progress of my healing.

But now, every small sound feels too sharp—the clink of silverware, the shift of a chair. The room itself is opposite the mood. Dim lighting, rich textures, a table set with more food than three people could reasonably eat.

I sit between them and immediately regret every life choice that led me here. It’s awkward.

Maddox lounges with one arm hooked over the back of his chair, posture loose, like he’s relaxed.

He’s not. I can feel it. His attention keeps snapping back to me. Checking if I’m still here. Still real. Still breathing.

I send him a polite smile.

Atticus, on the other hand, sits like we’re at a suffocating formal dinner. His back is straight, movements precise, and every inch of him still controlled. It’s at odds with the cave dweller look he is sporting after our weeks of imprisonment.

The look on his face… it’s painfully obvious neither of them like each other.

At all.

And I’m… stuck in the middle. The center of attention.

Can I go back to being invisible now?

Maddox sets his fork down, and his gaze lands on me, out of patience. “Start at the beginning.”