Page 135 of To Catch A Rogue
He didn’t have to say whom he suspected.
It was written all over him.
"If you think, for one second, that I would lead Charlie into danger, then you're mistaken. I would never let him be hurt."
"You lied to me that day I did your hair," Gemma said, swishing toward her with a predatory look in her eyes. "I could feel your pulse leaping."
"I didn’t…. I wasn’t lying about… that."
Charlie stepped between them, holding Gemma at bay with his hand. "Back off. You don’t know what you’re saying."
"Charlie, I know you have feelings for her, but there are a lot of holes in Lark's story. How can we trust her if we don't know what's going on?"
"I'm not your damned traitor," she broke out.
"You speak almost perfect Russian," Gemma murmured. "You're clearly hiding something. You know far too much about Russian customs and the culture here. Hell, you've mastered the Brotherhood of Silence's sign language."
"And last night it was very clear that you and Nikolai Koschei know each other. You cannot blame us for wanting to know why. What connection do you have to theChernyye Volki?" Obsidian asked.
Spoken that way, it would seem as though she was the mole in the group.
"Lark." Charlie's voice turned pleading. "You have to tell them the truth."
Heat flushed through her. She looked at Blade, seeking just one more ally.
"Sometimes you got to pay the piper, sweet'eart," Blade said quietly, sitting in the alcove of the window with sunlight streaming over him. He’d always been her fiercest protector, but he also believed in accepting responsibility.
"You were going to tell them the night Ava was taken," Charlie pointed out.
"Tell us what?" Gemma demanded.
Lark rested both hands on the back of her chair, swallowing hard. She looked Obsidian in the eye. "My name is Irina Konstantinovna Grigorieva. And I am the youngest daughter of Konstantin Grigoriev, the previous Prince of Tsaritsyn. I am not your traitor."
* * *
The breath explodedout of Obsidian as Lark finished telling them her story.
"I'm sorry," she murmured, looking at him. "You cannot be my eldest brother, Dmitri. You have nomarque du sang. Nikolai doesn't recognize you. I don't recognize you. Dima was nearly fifteen when my family was murdered. Sometimes there's a hint of him about your mouth and chin, but then I can't be certain if I see it because Iwantto see it."
It hit him harder than he'd have liked.
Ever since he saw the Grigoriev family tree with his name upon it, he'd hoped. He'd known the Grigorievs were dead, but he'd been so hungry for something. Some clue. Some missing piece of his identity.
"I am not a Grigoriev," he repeated.
Silence fell around the room as everyone silently consumed everything Lark had told them.
"You're a Rogue," Byrnes said, clapping a hand upon his shoulder. "You belong to us."
"And you belong to me." Gemma slid her hand over his.
"It was all a game," he whispered. "One more of Balfour's little games."
Kill Sergey and I'll give you proof of where you came from.
He should have known better than to trust Balfour. Of all people, he knew the bastard best, but that faint glimmer of hope.... It shattered within him like a broken windowpane. Obsidian stood and almost tripped over his chair in his sudden blinding rage.
"Where are you going?" Gemma pushed to her feet.
