Chapter 9

9

Eli

It’s more than a little shocking how seamlessly Abel takes over the compound. Within two hours, my people are gone and his are established in their place. I don’t get a chance to see much of the other Brides; Abel sends me to my rooms and leaves me there. I’ve just showered and pulled on a pair of pants when Harlow walks through the door.

She stops short when she sees me. “Hey.”

“Hey.” This is what we’ve come to. As awkward and unsure as strangers.

She shuts the door behind her and tugs at the bottom of the shirt she’s wearing. Abel’s shirt. Impossible to miss that silent message he’s determined to send to me; he’ll take everything from me.

Harlow. My home. The faction.

“Harlow—”

“You look like shit.” She crosses toward the closet. “Let me change, and I’ll put some butterfly bandages on the deeper cuts.”

I want to ask her if she’s okay, but it couldn’t be clearer that she doesn’t welcome the question. So, instead, I sit on the bed and wait for her to return. When she comes back in, she’s put on a pair of jeans and a black tank top. She’s also carrying the first aid kit we keep stashed in the bathroom. I can’t remember the last time we’ve had to use it, not since the first year after I took over for my father. There were some challenges during that time and for a few Lammas after. I took down every one publicly enough that they stopped coming.

Until now.

Harlow sets the first aid kit next to me on the bed and begins setting things out in a neat little row. “How are your ribs?”

“Bruised, but nothing serious. I can breathe just fine.”

She nods, not quite meeting my gaze. “This will sting.”

I close my eyes as she disinfects the cut on my cheekbone. She’s right. It stings like a motherfucker, but not nearly as much as the understanding of just how impassable the chasm between us has become. I wait until she starts on the bandages to speak. “He said he won’t touch you if you don’t want it.”

“I know.” She pauses. “Eli, I will do anything to keep our people from feeling the brunt of this. And that includes allying with Abel.”

I tense. She’s being so damn practical, but I can’t help feeling like she’s choosing him over me. “You have no reason to trust him.”

“I have to try.” She shrugs and presses the last bandage to my cheekbone. “Someone has to clean up this mess.”

There it is. The truth is that we’re in this situation because of me. Because of what my family and the other factions did on that night eight years ago. It doesn’t matter that I had no knowledge of my father’s plans for Abel and his brothers; the only thing that matters is what was done. “Abel cut down seven of the best people we put down there. All of them are undefeated.”

“All of them were undefeated.” She sits back. “Eli, why did you chase me down into the sand?”

“You know why.”

She stares at me with dark eyes. Over the years I’ve seen those eyes go hazy with pleasure, alight with joy, and even darker with sorrow. I’ve never seen her look like she’s disappointed in me. “After all this time, I don’t understand how you can be so determined to see me as a damsel in distress. I survived twenty-seven years before we got together, twenty-four of them in a faction ruled by Bauer Paine. If we start comparing scars, you grew up more sheltered than I ever could have dreamed of being.”

“I know that.” I want to take her hands, but I can’t stand the thought of her pulling away from me again. “You’ve suffered enough for several lifetimes. I don’t want you to suffer any more if there’s anything I can do about it.”

Harlow gives a sad little laugh. “That’s the thing. There isn’t anything you can do about it. I could have gone with Abel and worked behind the scenes to ensure that any coup he attempted would fail. Instead, you handed the entire faction over to him without a second thought.”

“I wouldn’t ask that of you.” In that moment, I hadn’t thought of anything at all except that I couldn’t watch Abel take the woman I loved.

“That’s the problem.” Harlow pushes to her feet and drags her fingers through her hair. “I can’t do this with you. We just keep going round and round. I…” She looks away. “I was going to leave you anyway.”

I suspected as much, but there’s something about hearing her say it aloud that shocks the hell out of me. “What?”

“After Lammas. I was already planning on it.”

“Why? I have tried everything I could think of to make you happy.”

“You tried everything.” Harlow gives a bitter little laugh and turns away. “The fact that you actually think that after everything we’ve talked about in the last twelve hours just proves leaving is the right choice. You tried everything except the one thing I needed from you. I can’t do this. I can’t keep letting you bottle me up as if I’m made of something more fragile than glass. You’re suffocating me, Eli. You have been for a long time. You don’t trust me, you don’t see me.”

Something ugly surges in my chest. “And Abel does.”

She spins back to face me. “I never said that.”

“You stood at his side and told our people to leave.”

“To save them, you asshole. You weren’t going to do it. Someone had to.”

I stalk closer to her. I have been so fucking careful with Harlow. So cognizant of how much she’s survived, of how much better she deserves. Her father almost killed her dozens of times over before she finally put a knife in his chest. And then she spent years drifting about the faction, doing whatever it took to survive. She deserves to be protected, to be indulged. I knew shit had gone sideways between us, but I didn’t realize it was because she resented that I was trying to do right by her. “So you jump into bed with Abel to punish me.”

“No, Eli.” Derision drips from each word. “I jumped into bed with Abel because I am his Bride, and it’s my duty. You swallowed down his cock for the same fucking reason.”

I’ve been trying really hard not to think about the feeling of Abel’s cock in my mouth. Or the way he pinned me to the wall and bit the back of my neck in some sort of twisted mating ritual earlier. I hate the man. My body might not have fully gotten the memo, but I’ve never been one to let control slip over something as inconvenient as lust.

Or at least I never used to be that guy.

Now, I don’t know who I am.

“Are you going to keep fucking him, Harlow?”

She lifts her chin, a sure sign that I’m not going to like the answer. “I haven’t decided yet.”

“You know what? You’re right.” I shake my head slowly. “I don’t fucking know you. The woman I fell in love with would never consider him.”

“Then you fell in love with a fantasy and not a real person.” She practically snarls the words.

I don’t know who moves first. One second we’re glaring at each other from a few inches away. The next her arms are around my neck, and I’m grabbing her ass and hauling her body against mine. For the first time since I met her, I’m not thinking about anything but getting inside her. Not about her pleasure. Not about her past. Not about our future going up in ashes with every word we hurl at each other.

I take her mouth just shy of violently, and she meets me halfway. Her nails dig into my neck and drag down to my shoulders, and I relish the pain. This deserves to hurt. It’s goodbye, after all. We might be Abel’s Brides, but that’s the only thing connecting us right now. That and far too much hurt and resentment.

I shove Harlow back onto the bed and go for the front of her jeans. She lifts her hips to help me yank them down her legs, and then she’s hooking the front of my pants and shoving them aside to get at my cock.

A small voice whispers that I should slow down, should make sure she’s ready, but I ignore it. It’s as if someone else is riding shotgun in my skin. I hook her legs and drag her to the edge of the bed, and then she’s guiding my cock into her pussy. I slam into her and curse. Fuck, she feels good. She always feels so goddamn good. Everything else might change, but that won’t.

She holds my gaze in a glare as she strokes her clit, chasing her own pleasure even as I pound into her. I growl. “No matter what else is true, you love my cock.”

“Cold fucking comfort, Eli.”

Her cruelty and anger only drive me on, feeding mine. I drop on top of her and hitch her leg higher to get deeper. I wrap her hair around my free fist and jerk her head to the side. She gives a breathy moan that I feel all the way to my balls. “Is this what you want, baby? You want to be fucked hard by someone who doesn’t give a damn about you? Someone who’s going to treat you like a dirty little slut and make you come all over his cock?”

She digs her nails into my ass, pulling me closer yet. “No matter how hard you fuck me, it’s not going to change the fact that you want his cock.”

I hate that she’s right. That’s not what this is about, though. Or at least not entirely. “You might think he sees you, but he’s using you just like he’s using me. When he’s done with you, he’s going to drop you in the trash and walk away without looking back.”

She moans, and her back bows. “Still a better future…than the one in a gilded cage that you’re offering.” Harlow cries out as she comes, clenching around my cock hard enough that I lose control. I pound into her, chasing my own pleasure, hating how things have turned out between us even as a dark part of me delights in taking off the gloves. A part of me I never, ever let off the leash. Looks like I don’t have a fucking choice right now. It’s in the driver’s seat, and there’s no going back now.

I collapse on top of her and turn my head to find that we’re no longer alone. Abel stands in the middle of the room, watching us with an unreadable expression on his face. He catches my gaze and raises his eyebrows. “By all means, don’t stop on my account. I was just beginning to enjoy the show.”

The man I was twenty-four hours ago would have moved to cover Harlow, to protect her. But she doesn’t want my protection. She hates me for even thinking to offer it.

I leverage myself off her, leaving her splayed out and spent. “Enjoy my sloppy seconds, asshole.” I stalk to the bathroom and slam the door behind me.

Regret hits me hard enough to buckle my knees. What the fuck am I doing? I brace my hands on the sink and let my head drop between my shoulders. This isn’t me. This isn’t what I do. No matter how pissed I am at Harlow, that doesn’t excuse how I just acted.

The urge to go out there and apologize nearly overwhelms me, but I muscle it down. Even if I do, all it will accomplish is making them believe I’m even weaker than they already do. No, backtracking isn’t an option.

Come on, you’re better than this. Stop reacting and think.

That’s just it. I need to think. I’ve been pure reaction since the moment Abel and the rest of the Paine brothers walked into the amphitheater. I have not successfully run this faction in the five years since my father’s death by being impulsive and emotional.

I need a fucking plan, and then I need to put it into motion.

If I’m going to take back everything Abel stole from me, I have to start now. Right this fucking second.