Page 124 of Bound By Her

He knew what motivated them.

And Regan, his pieces were the corner ones.

Four pieces with only one place to go on the puzzle.

Running his hand along Regan’s chest, he settled his palm around the base of his neck. He didn’t squeeze, but put gentle pressure through his fingers, tilting his chin up.

Regan twisted his face to look at him, a wicked grin growing on it. “You know I wanted to be here. Adria was my first choice.”

“Then why are you with Loretta?” Bryson’s voice shifted instinctually, a lifetime of needing to adapt at a moment’s notice. It was softer with a little gravel to it.

Regan looked at the ceiling, eyes blank. “All full at the inn, But Loretta has been quite…helpful.”

Bryson rubbed the side of Regan’s neck, finding his pulse. “I wasn’t aware people volunteered for this shit.”

Regan’s eyebrows rose. His face looked surprised, but his heart rate didn’t match. Something about him was off.

“You didn’t volunteer?” Regan asked.

“Not exactly.”

Regan tried to sit, but Bryson pushed him down with his hand. Regan didn’t fight the pressure.

“You said you saw the guest list.”

Regan yawned and stretched under him, as if this was the most boring thing in the world.

“There were a few names I didn’t recognize, and some I did. Belle, Kaster, Rain, Fallen.”

Bryson recognized Fallen. He was a high-end buyer, but relaxed knowing that none of his father’s allies were named.

“Will you be there?”

Regan shook his head. “Loretta says maybe next time. Oh, and Balin will be there, of course.”

“Jonathan.” The name was out before Bryson could stop himself. Regan nodded. “You know him?”

“Why would he be there?”

Regan scrunched his eyebrows together. “They’re friends, good friends, from what I hear.”

Bryson continued to feel his pulse; he didn’t seem to be lying.

“Does she not talk to you?” Regan asked.

The low whistle of the teakettle caused Bryson to let Regan go. Regan moved diligently, taking the kettle off the heat. When Bryson raised an eyebrow, he responded, “Now when they want it, it’ll be halfway done.”

“How thoughtful,” Bryson said sarcastically.

“I like to be helpful.”

The words were right, but his face was wrong. Something about the entire exchange was wrong.

“Why was Adria your first choice?” Bryson asked, curious.

Regan tilted his head, looking at him as if he was a child in need of a nap. “She’s the best. Loretta is a close second; she trained her after all. But Adria rose to the challenge, and now she wears the crown.”

Regan moved lazily, walking towards Bryson. Invading his space. Another person may have stepped back, but not Bryson.

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