Ezekiel opens the door to his bedroom and pauses. “I know you’re used to looking out for us, but I don’t need a babysitter, and I sure as fuck don’t need some kind of father stand-in. We had a father, Broderick. He was a piece of shit. We’re all adults now, so stop worrying about us and mind your own Bride.”

Monroe. My Bride. The enemy.

Chapter 9

Monroe

There are few things I hate more than aborted orgasms. I might admire Broderick’s restraint and cruelty the smallest amount, but that doesn’t make me less likely to crawl the walls as I stalk around the house. Shiloh hasn’t found me yet, and I refuse to worry about her. She’s fine. More than fine. It’s about damn time her and Broderick stopped being so nice to each other. He might lie to everyone else, but I know the truth; he’s not a nice man. Not even a little bit.

And Shiloh?

No matter what I thought when I first saw her, she’s not nice either. She’s strong, and irritatingly good at her job, and sexy as fuck. She’s also a selfish ass for coming all over my thigh and then walking away as if she has no intention of doing it again.

We’ll see about that.

“Monroe.”

I paste a cheery smile on my face as I spin on my heel. Harlow Byrne strides down the hall in my direction. She’s attractive in an understated kind of way. Strong body with curves that might be tempting if they were attached to anyone else. Hair that’s been dyed a subtler red than is found in the Mystic faction. I’ve seen her fight a few times before she and Eli Walsh started dating; she’s a hell of a bitch in the arena. I can take her, but it wouldn’t be an easy victory.

She’s effectively queen of the Raider faction now. Abel took her as his Bride, but unlike the rest of us, he’s made it pretty damn clear that she’s at his side as an equal. The little prick I feel when I look at her is irritation, of course. It certainly isn’t jealousy. I don’t need to be seen as on the same level as Broderick, not when I’m leagues above him. “Harlow. What a lovely surprise.”

“Liar,” she says it easily, not bothered in the least. I hate to say it, but she’s damn good at her job, and she manages all the Brides expertly. She’s the reason I’m able to go home during the day to work—and avoid any ambitious Amazons getting funny ideas about who’s really heir. She’s also the reason I’ve been on what passes for my best behavior.

With everyone but Broderick, of course.

Harlow falls into step beside me. “What happened today?”