That pulls me up short. “What are you talking about?” I should know better at this point. Beast never comes at a confrontation head-on. He prefers to flank his opponent, to catch them flat-footed. The reminder that I’m the opponent feels like a slap in the face.
“Us.” He doesn’t wait for me to catch up, just keeps talking in that measured way of his. “I lied when I told you what my fantasy was.”
“Yeah, I know.” I’d wondered about it at the time, but was too tired to press the issue. “Why bring it up now?”
Beast closes the last bit of distance between us, bringing us chest to chest. My instincts get all tangled up. I can’t tell if we’re about to fight or fuck, and I freeze. He leans up and his teeth graze my jaw in a nip. “You’re not being honest with either of us, Gaeton.”
“Obviously neither of us are,” I grind out. “What are you talking about, specifically?”
“Do you remember that afternoon?” He keeps going even as my mind tries to flicker away what I know he’s talking about. “You were in Isabelle’s bed, and she was riding your cock. The sunlight bathed your skin golden and she was so wet, I could hear it from the door.”
Just like that, I’m back in that memory I’ve shoved down deep. Isabelle’s pussy clamped tight around my cock, her tits bouncing a little with each thrust, her eyes closed as she rides me. A movement behind her as the door slides soundlessly open. My gaze snagging Beast’s across the distance and, for the first time, not seeing loathing reflected there. Only desire.
It wasn’t aimed solely at Isabelle, either.
I draw in a ragged breath. “Yeah, I remember.”
“We pretended it never happened. Never spoke of it.” He presses his hips to mine, demonstrating that he’s just as turned on by the memory as I am. “In my fantasy, I walked in. Stripped. Joined you both in that bed. I punished you for getting started without me, and then we all fucked until we exhausted ourselves.”
The air in the room has gone hot and sticky. I can’t seem to inhale fully. “You never said anything.”
“Neither did you.” He leans back just enough to hold my gaze. “Do you trust me, Gaeton?”
A few days ago, I would have shot back a negative answer. It wouldn’t have been the full truth, not when I trusted this man over and over again through the years to watch my back and keep our people safe. Even when we were at each other’s throats, he never hesitated to ensure I came home every night, no matter how dangerous a mission or task we were sent out on.
My heart wasn’t on the line then. It is now.
It’s possible that this is all part of some deeper plan to fuck me over, that Beast wants me off my game so he can walk with Isabelle at the end of this. But… I don’t think so. We’re in unmarked territory, but for the first time since I agreed to this pact, I don’t feel like I’m walking this strange path alone. “Yes.”
“Good.” He gives me a faint smile. “One last question. Do you want to walk through our plans for tonight together or do you want me to handle it?”
“Together.” I exhale slowly. “Let’s figure it out together.”
Chapter 19
Isabelle
It feels so good to get ready with a full array of hair products and makeup; like I’m reclaiming part of myself that I haven’t been on speaking terms with for the last forty-eight hours. I’m not delusional enough to think it will affect the power balance, but it makes me feel steadier all the same. The woman looking back at me in the mirror is still in over her head, but at least she looks good while she drowns.
My phone pings as I finish touching up my lipstick. I almost don’t want to look at it. Undoubtedly, it’s one of my sisters, and neither option sounds appealing right now. Cordelia will demand to know where I am so she can retrieve me. She’s got the makings of being as good a leader as our father, but she’s not rational when it comes to the people she loves. It doesn’t matter that we need Beast and Gaeton back; she thinks I’ve sold myself for their loyalty and my being hurt by that choice is something she can’t abide by.
Father never would have let it get this far.
I close my eyes and concentrate on breathing slowly until the burning behind my eyelids passes. It doesn’t matter what Father would or would not have done. He’s gone, and the responsibility that he seemed to shoulder with such ease has fallen to us. Cordelia needs her head in the game, and I cannot fail in bringing these men back into the fold. Lives depend on it.