"I PUT HER IN THAT CONVENT TO PROTECT HER FROM THE WORLD—FROM MEN LIKE YOU!" Ciro roared, and I rolled my eyes.
Ah, there it was. The dramatic declaration of virtue.
I chuckled, and it wasn't the full-bellied kind that warms a room. It was the cold one. The one that stabs. The kind that sounds like frost cracking on stone.
"Protect her from men like me," I repeated, tilting my head. "Or protect her from feeling anything at all? Love, warmth, freedom. A life."
The douchebag only pressed his lips together, staring daggers at me.
"You locked her away like a cursed relic, Ciro," I continued, stepping toward him now.
"You kept her hidden, untouched, unloved—from sixteen to twenty. Not to protect her. No, brother. You did it because you couldn't bring yourself to claim her."
"Watch your mouth," he snarled, eyes narrowing into slits.
I couldn't be bothered by his warning, so I went on. "And you couldn't let another man have her. So you kept her out of reach. Untouched. Because if you can't have her, no one should, right?"
I could hear his heartbeat now. Could almost feel it pounding through his ribs. Wolves are good at reading tension, especially between alphas.
"You bastard," Ciro growled. "You've always been a sick bastard."
"And you've always been a coward," I returned, my smile gone now. "She deserved better than the bars you built around her. Even if I'm the worst thing that ever happened to her, I'll still be the first real thing. You never gave her the chance to live."
Ciro's lip curled, exposing the faintest flash of fang already elongating from uncontrollable anger. "This isn't your place. Return her. Now. Or I'll…"
"What?" I laughed, stepping in until we were nose to nose. "Draw the battle lines? Kill me?"
I knew the bastard like the back of my hand. I took the phrase: know your enemies to heart.
Ciro's voice dropped coldly. "If you don't want to die, Caligo, return her to where you picked her up from. You're not fit to breathe the same air as her. This is no longer a warning. This is war."
I tilted my head in false thoughtfulness. "The line's always been drawn, Ciro. It just got official."
I could see it in his face and could see his restraint, fraying at the edges. He wanted to rip into me. But he wouldn't. He couldn't even if he so dearly wanted to. Not in the hallway. Not with eyes possibly watching from the dark.
"I know what you are trying to do," he hissed. "But she's not a toy. She's my mate, and she can never love you. She can never belong to you, even if you bought her. Her heart will belong to me and me alone."
That halted me once again. My ears perked up at his stupid declaration. The certainty in his voice made me want to prove him wrong so badly.
Made me want to make Rose love, need me, adore me… and heaven help me, she would. Oh, hell, she would.
"Ah." I exhaled slowly, the corners of my mouth curling up in understanding. "So that's the truth you've been choking on."
His jaw clenched. His hand twitched at his side. He was in over his head with anger. I was killing him, and the satisfaction it served me was boundless. I couldn't describe it with words
I would spend days reveling in pleasure when I flashback to this exchange. That was when I noticed the figure at the end of the hall.
Aurora.
Shit.
Her apron was wrinkled, the sleeves of her blouse rolled up as though she'd been scrubbing the cellar floor again, though I doubted she ever stopped cleaning
. Aurora had that quality: ageless, tireless, a mother in the body of a servant. She had seen too much over the years, cleaned up too much blood, and dried too many tears that weren't hers.
And she was staring straight at us. At Ciro.
His head snapped toward her. The moment their eyes met, I saw the horror in his. The naked terror in Ciro's expression. Not because of what she was. But because of what she might have heard.
He stormed toward her like a predator.
"Aurora, what are you doing there?! Did you hear anything?" He barked at her like she wasn't old enough to be his mother.
She blinked. Then, smoothly, she bowed her head. "No, Señor. I heard nothing."
"You'd better keep it that way," he commanded, shaking. "Not a word."
With that, he spun and stalked down the hall like a wounded lion. The corridor swallowed his fury, and silence descended.
He so badly didn't want anyone to know about him and Rose. That was the depth of how ashamed of her that he was. Yet, he so selfishly wanted to cage her in his net.
Bastard.
I would enjoy even more using this against him even more.
I approached Aurora slowly. She didn't even flinch when I came close.
"Don't mind him. You know how he gets when his secrets get sunlight." I muttered.
She gave me a long look, one full of years. Of exhaustion. Of a quiet, maternal disapproval that made even me shift on my feet.
"It's high time you two stop fighting," she said softly, shaking her head. "This war between brothers will destroy you both."
I hated how Aurora looked at me. Like she still believed there was something left to save.
I shrugged. "We were broken long before Rose came along."
Her gaze softened. "And yet, you gave her me."
I had entrusted Rose in her care from now on. I trusted her to guide her right. I couldn't imagine the level and amount of bullying awaiting Rose as time passes.
I needed to do my all to protect her. Especially from Nox and her—their mother.
"I knew she'd need you," I admitted. My demeanor had suddenly gone softer now.
"She's lost, Aurora. She doesn't know this world. She doesn't know us. She thinks I'm some cruel captor. I probably am. But she still deserves someone who'll feed her more than lies."
Aurora's lips twitched with a sigh. "You're cruel. But not heartless."
I didn't respond.
"I'll take care of her," she said, adjusting the tray she was carrying. "She's safe with me."
The truth was, where this family is concerned, Rose is never safe.