Page 16 of Brutal Knight

“Yes!” I throw my hands up, baffled. “And you think this is the best way to start? By saying I don’t have a right to privacy? What, are you going to follow me into the bathroom, too?”

“If I need to. You’re an addict, Willow.”

For some reason, those words make me even more angry. I know he’s right—I’ve known what I am, what I’ve become, for a long time. I’ve moved past being ashamed. I hate that Dmitri did this to me, but I don’t hate that I survived him.

But for Connor to look me in the face and talk to me like I’m some sad, useless addict makes me angry. He has no right to judge me. He doesn’t know me. He doesn’t know what Dmitri did.

Or he does, and he never gave a shit until it benefitted him. Until he could marry me for my power.

If that’s the case, he’s just like Victor. He’s just like all the others trying to kidnap me. The only difference is that he has yet to show how bad he can be. And I’m sure he’s not perfect. He can’t be.

“So, this is charity,” I say slowly. “You’re just doing this out of pity.”

“I’m not going to marry an addict,” Connor says.

He’s getting pissed. I can hear it in his voice, ramping up. I never would have talked back to Dmitri like this. He beat that urge out of me. But now, the desperation and rage I feel at my situation are fueling me. I don’t have anything to lose anymore. Not really.

“What, is an addict not good enough for you?”

“It may have been good enough for Dmitri,” Connor says, smiling sharply. “But I’m not him.”

“No, you’re not. Because it’s not like you’re swooping in to marry me just for your own benefit. Just because you want something, you want power. It’s not like you’re taking me when I can’t say no.”

“That’s—”

“You think you’re better than Dmitri? Yet somehow, you still want to marry his widow.”

His gaze is sharp. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You’re no better than Victor,” I say, my voice raised, almost yelling. My breath is coming in short bursts.

I can sense the change when Connor hears the words, when he steps up to me. He doesn’t move like Dmitri. Dmitri moved violently, took up space, and didn’t care about being careful or quiet. He would come at me fast, and I wouldn’t have a chance to fight.

Dmitri knew I was afraid of him. He didn’t have to act dangerous, I knew he was.

Connor doesn’t move fast. He doesn’t move like he’s trying to scare or hurt me. He just takes a step closer to me, moving casually, as if he’s talking to a friend.

He’s so close I can almost feel the warmth of his breath on my face.

“Maybe you’re right. But one thing me and Victor don’t have in common is that he’s fucking dead. I’m not. And I’m going to be your fucking husband.”

I hold my breath. There’s nothing violent in his eyes, no immediate threat in his body language. Nothing says Connor is about to hurt me.

Can I trust that’s true?

I don’t know. But I know that he’s close, and my heart rate isn’t slowing down. I can feel goose bumps on my skin. It’s more than just fear I’m feeling. There’s a low undercurrent, something burning inside me, something responding to his musky, masculine scent. My body is reacting to the warmth radiating from him and the way he’s not moving to touch me yet, to hurt me.

It can’t be arousal.

There’s no way. I’m so shocked I almost look down at myself to make sure I’m not on fire. It scares me how slowly it happened, how easily it came to me. The feeling isn’t just simple attraction, and it shouldn’t be happening.

I’ve been dead inside for so long, I didn’t think I could feel anything.

Especially not this.

Connor watches me. I don’t know if he knows, but I’m both afraid and dizzyingly curious what will happen if he knows. What would he even do?

He steps back and some part of me wants to grab his arm, keep him close. I want to slap myself. How stupid could I be? He’s not my friend, and how the hell can I trust him with my body?

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