Right. Of course. I should have realized that. Monroe has me so rattled, I don’t know which way is up. Except, I can’t blame it entirely on Monroe. Ever since we crossed the boundary line back into Sabine Valley, things have been different. I knew it would be hard coming back here, but so many of my brothers don’t seem affected and I don’t understand. How can they be here without being tormented by the phantom scent of smoke? Without constantly looking over their shoulder for enemies. Without being hounded by the past.

“Are you…okay?”

“What?” At first, I think she’s intuited that I was sinking into the past, the way we’ve both learned to do with each other during the course of our friendship. But then I follow Shiloh’s gaze down to my forearms, where there are long scratches. I don’t even remember Monroe giving them to me.

I flush. “Uh. Yeah.” What am I supposed to say? Shiloh is my friend, yes, but I’ve never let her know how I truly feel. To her, I’m just her best friend, her safe harbor in the midst of all the fuckery the world likes to throw at us. I am all that for her, the same way she’s that for me.

With all that said, our friendship has never had to navigate something like this before. If Shiloh is intimate with people, she’s been subtle enough that I’ve never known about it. As for me, I haven’t touched another person once I realized I was in love with her about six months after she joined us. I should have moved on once I realized this is only friendship for her, should have at least tried to create a romantic relationship with someone else, but it never felt right so it just…never happened.

Which means we have no framework for how to deal with the fact we both know I just fucked Monroe.

Shiloh saves us from standing here indefinitely in silence by leaning around me to glance at the door I just came out of. “So that’s Monroe, huh?”

“Yeah.” Gods, this is awkward, and I don’t know what to say to make it less so. “The Amazon heir.”

She gives me a small tentative smile. “I guess there are worse Brides you could have to spend time with over the next year. She’s gorgeous.”

Maybe I’ll call her name instead.

I try to shove Monroe’s sultry voice from my head, but it’s no use. I can’t help following that memory to its inevitable conclusion. I bet her pussy tastes just as sweet and innocent as she looks. “Stay away from her,” the words come out too harsh, too dominant, but it’s too late to take them back.