Page 76 of Princess of Vengeance

I look into those smart-as-fuck gray eyes and I know she’s carrying the weight of the world—not just her own past and future but her old Enigma members and us too—on her shoulders. I’d give fucking anything to take some of the burden away, but for now it has to be enough for her to know that we’ve got her back.

Today. Tomorrow. Always.

“When that day comes and you turn the tables on him,” I say, “Just know that we’ll be right there with you, and we’ll bathe in his fucking blood.”

“You’re not just our princess of carnage,” I tell her, because I fucking love the sound of that. “You’re our princess of vengeance. And we’ll be right beside you, watching that bastard bleed out for every mark he’s ever put on you.”

She smiles—a vicious, beautiful thing that I’d gladly spend hours memorizing if we had the time. “I’ll hold you to that promise.”

We all sit for a while and let the comfortable silence stretch out between us. Her breathing syncs with mine, then with all of ours, until it feels like we’re connected in more than just a physical way. These are the moments I live for now—just the four of us, safe for at least a few fucking minutes.

She sighs, and the moment passes. “I should go. I’ve already risked too much by coming here.”

“We’d know if someone had followed you,” Killian says immediately.

I nod in agreement. “We’ve got this place locked down tight. Malcolm’s guys wouldn’t get within a block without us knowing this time.”

She looks skeptical, but she’s probably worried about our safety more than her own right now. “Still, I can’t be gone too long. He’ll get suspicious.”

She showers before she leaves, washing away the evidence of what we did together. I hate watching her scrub our scent and our cum off her skin. It feels wrong, like vandalizing a fucking masterpiece. But I know it’s necessary. Malcolm can’t know she’s been with us.

The three of us stay in the room while she dresses. I don’t know what’s going through their minds right now, but I’mmemorizing every curve and line of her body like it might be the last time I see her even though the thought makes my chest ache.

When she’s ready, she comes to each of us for a moment alone.

She goes to Atlas first, and he pulls her into a crushing hug. He buries his face in her hair and whispers something I can’t hear that makes her eyes go bright with emotion.

With Killian, it’s different. He drops to his knees before her like a fucking knight or something, and presses his forehead against her stomach. She runs her fingers through his hair so tenderly it feels almost too intimate to watch.

Then she comes to me. “I love you,” she whispers. “With everything I am.”

“Ti amo, mia cara,” I reply, kissing her one last time. “Until the end of time.”

We all walk to the door with her, since none of us are willing to let her go until the last possible second. When she finally steps outside, my chest feels hollow, like she’s taking part of me with her.

We watch from the window as she walks away with her shoulders squared and her head held high. Even from behind, I can see how fucking strong she is—the woman who faced down her demons tonight and came out swinging.

Beside me, I can feel the same heartbreak and need radiating from Killian and Atlas that’s burning in my own chest. The physical ache of watching her leave is as painful and raw as any fucking withdrawal I’ve been through.

There’s not really a word for what the three of us have become. Not that I know of, anyway. Brothers seems too simple and clean for this tangled, bloody bond we’ve forged. We’re brothers and more—three parts of a whole that only makes sense when Quinn is at the center.

Because we share a heart, the three of us. And it’s walking away down that street, wrapped in teal hair and tattooed skin, carrying the weight of a revenge that’s been too fucking long in the making.

Our princess of carnage. Our princess of vengeance.

Our everything.

27

QUINN

The cab pullsto a stop half a block from Mickey’s bar, and I slip the driver a handful of crumpled bills before ducking out. My heart is racing but still steadier than it was when I got dropped off at the safe house. I’m exhausted and my body is aching from the marathon sex with my men, but it’s a good ache

It’s a reminder that I’m still alive and still fighting.

I wait and scan the street in both directions before darting toward the back entrance of the bar. The alleyway is dark and damp, and it smells like piss and stale beer, but it’s still my best option to avoid being seen by Malcolm’s hired goons.

I slip inside the building and nod quickly to Mickey as he looks up from behind the bar. He gestures with his chin toward the door leading to the basement, no questions asked. That’s why I’ve always liked Mickey—he’s loyal as hell and knows how to keep his fucking mouth shut.

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