Page 114 of Nash

“They spotted us at the club,” Nash answers. “We lost their tail, and here we are.”

Instantly, this connection warms me. “Nice to meet you, too,” I sigh in Wren’s long embrace.

“Please,” she offers. “Have a seat. I’ll pour some drinks. We have lots to share.”

Share?I suddenly sense it.Wren’s a queen.

Reverently, she lifts on her tip-toes, offering Nash a kiss on his right cheek. Nash respectfully pecks her back, and that’s when I notice Wren’s piercing on her left cheek. It’s a diamond Monroe piercing just above her puckered top lip.

Sire watches their greeting as he sits, reaching his tattooed hand out for Wren’s. She takes it, and he kisses her fingers, lightly tonguing her interdigit with a knowing smirk on his lips before she giggles and pads past him in bare feet to their kitchen.

Nash pulls me to sit beside him on the sofa. “This chase is getting old,” he seethes. “I want blood.”

Sire sits like a king in his black leather chair, his arms covered in angels and crosses, draping over the sides. “Could be a blessing.” The gold cross around his neck catches the lamplight.

Nash huffs, “This isn’t divine.”

“It isn’t?” He lifts his chin. “If people do not believe the first sign, they will believe the second.”

“Stop preaching.” Nash wraps his arm over my shoulder. “You’re not the ones being chased.”

“No, you are.” Sire nods at us. “And we’ll use it to our advantage. We’ll protect you while you draw them out of hiding, then we take them out. One by one.”

“Yay,” I murmur, “I’ve always wanted to be a target.”

Nash hugs me tighter under his protective arm. “I got you, poison.” His lips brush my hair as Wren joins us with four shots in hand—vodka, always.

I like this tradition.

She serves us before Sire pulls her to sit on his lap. “Thanks, Angel.” He kisses her, way too long and hot, before taking the glass from her hand.

Then he raises it, we all do, and Nash whispers, “Don’t say it,” and I pout, loving my toast as we toss them back.

“So,” Wren beams, “is it official? Did you get The Queen’s approval?”

I pull away, turning to Nash. “Dideveryoneknow about mebutme?”

“We always knew about you.” Sire chuckles. “It just took Nash way too fucking long to add it up. Kind of sad for such a genius accountant.”

Wren shrugs her dainty shoulders. “Don’t feel bad. I just found out, too. As a new queen, there are a lot of secrets to tease out of them. It’s not personal,” she assures. “They were raised to hide, so it takes a while for them to come out.”

“Oh, Icome.” Sire seeks her slender neck, biting it and letting us see his tongue lash her flesh.

It sparks my core, heat tingling my nerves, the recognition of another beast. It’s the same way Nash devoured me at the country club that day.

Wren sighs, “We have guests.”

“That’s my brother and his future queen,” Sire rumbles against her flesh, his hand cupping her pert breast, his tattooed fingers pinching her nipple under the shirt. “You know our bond.”

Wren moans softly, and with the corner of my eye, I catch Nash licking his lips. His fingers clutch my shoulder tighter. He can’t hide the slight roll of his hips beside mine, too.

He’s getting aroused by their desire.I am, too.

I suddenly feel warm with Sire and Wren. I feel like we belong. Like together, we’ll always be safe. More than safe.

Nash said the mafia life is a gilded, barbed, and bloody cage. I don’t doubt it is. But now I know … it can be an erotic one, too.

“We need to do this soon,” Nash orders, icing the hot vibe. “If Vale and I agree to be hunted, to bait Turner’s crew to find us, I need her protected.Now.”

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