Cover

Also by Katee Robert

Sabine Valley

Abel

Broderick

Cohen

The Bloodline Vampires

Sacrifice

Heir

Queen

Wicked Villains

Desperate Measures

Learn My Lesson

A Worthy Opponent

The Beast

The Sea Witch

Queen Takes Rose

A Touch of Taboo

Your Dad Will Do

Gifting Me To His Best Friend

My Dad’s Best Friend

Seducing My Guardian

The Groom, The Maid of Honor, and The Runaway Bride

Twisted Hearts

Theirs for the Night

Forever Theirs

Theirs Ever After

His Forbidden Desire

Her Rival’s Touch

His Tormented Heart

Her Vengeful Embrace

The Kings Series

The Last King

The Fearless King

The Hidden Sins Series

The Devil’s Daughter

The Hunting Grounds

The Surviving Girls

The Make Me Series

Make Me Want

Make Me Crave

Make Me Yours

Make Me Need

The O’Malley Series

The Marriage Contract

The Wedding Pact

An Indecent Proposal

Forbidden Promises

Undercover Attraction

The Bastard’s Bargain

The Hot in Hollywood Series

Ties that Bind

Animal Attraction

Come Undone Series

Wrong Bed, Right Guy

Chasing Mrs. Right

Two Wrongs, One Right

Chapter 1

Broderick

I always knew it would come to this. Handfasted, not to the woman I want, but to the heir to the Amazon faction. Linked to the enemy for a year in the most intimate way possible, all for the sake of revenge.

Monroe Rhodius stands next to me, her silence doing nothing to detract from the danger rolling off her in waves. She’s gorgeous, of course; all the ruling Amazon family is. Long blond hair; pretty, green eyes; and a mouth painted blood red. She only comes up to my shoulder, which is the most surprising thing about her.

Given her reputation, I thought she’d be bigger.

She’s also not dressed in any kind of formal wear like so many of the others here to celebrate Lammas. Instead she’s wearing a pair of cutoff shorts and a cropped white shirt that shows off a toned stomach and equally toned arms. Judging from the scrapes and bruising on her knuckles, she fought tonight. Whoever her opponent was didn’t get in a single shot at her face.

All around us, the arena seethes with rage. We’ve just accomplished the impossible—a mostly bloodless coup of the Raider territory, a claiming of Brides across all three of Sabine Valley’s factions. The first step in a revenge seven years in the making.

It feels like the handfasting ceremony occurs between one blink and the next. The Herald says the appropriate words and then wraps a length of pretty silk around my and Monroe’s forearms, binding us together.

There’s no going back now.

My older brother, Abel, leads our group through the crowd to the waiting trucks. Seven Paine brothers, our seven Brides—eight Brides, now that Abel has had his way. My brother has plenty of faith that no one will break the code of the feasts and sink a dagger between our shoulder blades, but he’s never let faith get in the way of reality. Now that we’re actually here, I’m glad for his plan to leave immediately. Raider, Amazon, and Mystic alike brim with fury and violence as they watch us whisk away the heirs to their respective thrones, as well as the favored among them.

Feast days in Sabine Valley are supposed to be sacred and free of non-sanctioned violence. A way for the three factions to iron out any wrinkles and keep war from the city. It’s a pretty fantasy. The reality is that all the codes and rules and traditions don’t mean shit.

They sure as hell didn’t save us when all three factions came together in an attempt to stamp the Paines out of existence.

It’s only when we’ve piled into the back of one of the trucks that Monroe breaks her silence. She gives me a slow smile that feels more like a threat than an expression of joy. “Bold move, Broderick Paine. You’re going to live just long enough to regret claiming me as your Bride.”

I already regret it.

Not the theatrics. They were necessary. Arriving back in Sabine Valley during the feast of Lammas, one of the four times when the city’s three factions come together in a ritual designed to maintain peace.

Abel stepping into the ring and issuing his challenge—seven fights, a Bride the reward for each victory.

Each of us taking Brides from all three factions, and forging a forced peace as a result. The tradition of Brides is just as old as the tradition of feast days. A long time ago, it used to be the way people forged alliances and navigated tricky moments in Sabine Valley history. A handfasting between one party and a Bride ensures peace for a year. No one connected to either party may move against each other without bringing the entire city down on their heads in retribution.

By taking Brides from all three of the ruling families, we’ve ensured no one can touch us for the next year. Technically, we can’t move against them, either, but it’s more than enough time to get our roots in deep and prepare for the coming confrontation.

If we survive this year.

The problem with taking Brides from the enemy factions? It means we’re essentially married to that enemy, that we’ve invited them into our beds and our lives.

The peace between factions only holds as long as the handfasting does. If one of us fucks it up, we’ll bring war down upon the Raider territory before we’re ready for it to happen. Which means we have to get along with our Brides, no matter how much Monroe looks like she wants to take a literal bite out of me.

I stare at my new Bride. I’m not as hard as some of my brothers, nowhere near as cold as others, but I’ve survived eight years of exile and put scars on my soul that will be there until the day I die. She might be dangerous, but the sad truth is I’m plenty dangerous on my own. “Cross me, and I won’t be the one who regrets it.”

Monroe gives a throaty laugh, a sound so full of the promise of sin that it sends a bolt of desire straight to my cock. Damn it, I don’t want to react to her. It doesn’t matter that she’s mine for the year or that she’s beautiful. None of that changes the truth.

She’s not the one I want.

Not the one I love.

Monroe lets the jostle of the truck bounce her nearly into my lap. She leans against me, her breasts pressing to my upper arm. “I’m a Bride. That means this handfasting isn’t official until it’s consummated.”

I clench my jaw and stare at the buildings we pass. We cross the bridge into Raider territory—territory that used to be ours, at least until we were betrayed and exiled. It doesn’t look like home. I don’t know if I’ll ever consider it home again, not when being back in the city has me expecting a bullet between my eyes at any moment. “I’m aware.”

She drags her finger down the center of my chest and over my stomach. I catch her wrist before she reaches the band of my jeans. “No.”

Monroe gives another of those throaty laughs. “I was going to do my duty—I’m no oathbreaker, after all—but this is going to be fun.”

“What?” I finally drag my gaze to her face. She’s got features too perfect to be real. It almost hurts to look at her.

She tugs her wrist out of my grip. “You have to do your duty, too, Broderick.” She draws out my name as if tasting it for weakness. “Even if you hate every moment of it.”

“I’m aware of my duty.” My voice is too hard, giving away how much I don’t want to do this. Damn it, I have to get myself in line. She’s been in my presence less than thirty minutes, and she’s already digging around beneath my skin.

“Like I said: fun.”

We pull into the warehouse we’ve been secretly staying in while we got everything lined up for the feast. It’s as secure as we could make it, which means it should be secure enough to consummate with our respective Brides and ensure the next year of peace.

We climb out of the trucks, piling into the open space around the trucks. I look around, checking to make sure everyone is here and everything is as it should be. Once I clock each of my brothers, I catch sight of Maddox standing near the door. He was left in charge of the warehouse while we were gone. He meets my gaze and gives a short nod.

Everything is as it should be.

I exhale slowly and turn back to Abel and his two Brides. Harlow, we planned on—an extra little revenge against the faction that used to be ours. But Abel’s second Bride? I study Eli Walsh, the man who was almost a seventh brother to me. The man who stood by while our father and people were killed in a coup eight years ago. He’s running the Raiders now, which more than speaks for itself about his involvement in what went down that night.

I hope Abel knows what he’s doing.

My brother looks at each of us in turn, his expression hard. “Consummate the handfasting tonight. No exceptions. Get it done.”

There’s nothing to do but exactly what he said: get it done. I turn and head for the bedroom I’ve been using, and I’m relieved when Monroe keeps pace with me. I don’t want to have to drag her behind me. No matter what we want, this has to be done tonight or the handfasting won’t hold. It’s not necessary for normal handfasting, but Brides are different. The forced peace only works if the rules are followed to the letter.

We’re nearly to the door when the person I dreaded seeing appears. Shiloh. She’s flushed as if she’s been running, her dark hair pulled back in a ponytail. Her gaze skates over Monroe and lands on me, and the relief on her face has guilt worming through me.

I try for a smile. “Shiloh.”

My best friend.

The woman I’ve been in love with for years.

“You’re okay.” She doesn’t touch me, doesn’t close the last bit of distance between us, but she gives me a trembling smile. “I was worried.”

“No need to be. Abel took care of everything.” I was the worried one. For as secure as we’ve tried to make this warehouse, it’s an imperfect safety. Anything could have happened to the people we left here. Just like anything could have happened to my brothers in the moment we stepped onto the sand of the arena. If the Herald hadn’t agreed to let Abel fight, they could have descended on us and finished what they started eight years ago.

“Yeah, Abel’s good at that.” Her smile goes a little strained and her gaze flicks to Monroe again. “I, uh, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Yeah. Sure.” I don’t look at Monroe, but I feel her watching us. She’s gone still, a predator scenting weakness. I clear my throat, hating how awkward things have suddenly gotten between us. “Tomorrow.”

Shiloh searches my face, gives me one last faint smile, and then she’s gone, weaving her way through the trucks and disappearing from sight. I turn toward the door, but Monroe is there, pressing herself to my chest and staring up into my eyes with a devious smile on her red, red lips. “Broderick Paine, you’ve been holding out on me. Who was that delicate little creature? She looks tasty.”

Alarm blares, and it’s everything I can do to keep it out of my tone. “She’s no one.” Better that Monroe believe that than literally anything else. Especially the actual truth.

Her smile widens, and her green eyes light up. She’s never looked more beautiful than she does in this moment. She’s never looked more dangerous, either. “We both know that’s not the truth. It looks to me like she’s everyone to you.” She presses her nails to my chest, a cat toying with its prey. “This is going to be even more fun than I expected.”

Gods alone know what Monroe considers fun.

I’m suddenly sure that I’m going to find out…and that Shiloh is going to bear the cost.

Chapter 2

Monroe

I’m so furious, I can barely think straight. The feast was going well enough, if a little boring, until the Paine brothers showed up and sent everyone into a tailspin. The sheer fucking audacity of their picks for Brides might make me admire them if I wasn’t among the number.

Not just me.

I turn away from Broderick and survey the warehouse the Paines brought us to. A giant room with doors lining the walls on either side of the massive one we drove through to get here. People have scattered like rats fleeing a sinking ship since we climbed out of the trucks, and I can’t find my sister or uncle among them. Winry. Damn it, I should have been thinking of her this whole time instead of needling Broderick Paine.

Winry isn’t like me. No amount of training and browbeating by our mother could hammer out the softness she carries. She’ll never be ruthless or cold or willing to cut down her enemies first and ask questions later. Why in the name of the gods did they pair her with Cohen Paine? Even a glimpse of him is enough to label him a stone-cold killer, just like me.

Better that she end up with someone like the man standing behind me, radiating impatience. Broderick might be the second-born Paine, but he doesn’t have the same cold ruthlessness that comes off some of his brothers in waves. “If your brother hurts my sister, I’ll skin him alive.”

Broderick stops short, looking at me like I’m a poisonous snake that just opened my mouth and spoke. “No one is going to be hurt. No one is going to be forced.”

“You say that, and yet your scary big brother just said to consummate the handfasting, no exceptions.”

“For fuck’s sake, Monroe.” He seems legitimately insulted. “There are half a dozen ways to consummate without having sex, and they have all night to figure out a way that won’t harm anyone. Give us some credit.”

“Yeah, I don’t think I will.” Will Winry do the smart thing and submit to get it over with? I think she will, but sometimes when she gets scared, she acts against her best interest. My chest gets tight at the thought, but I have too much control to let my worry show on my face. I smile up at Broderick, and his flinch makes me feel the tiniest bit better. “I don’t bluff. If Cohen harms Winry or scares her or makes her cry, I’m going to fucking gut him.” I doubt I can take the burly redhead in a fair fight, but I’ve never been in a fair fight in my life—at least outside of feast days.

“No one is going to hurt your sister.” Broderick narrows his pretty, blue eyes. Really, all of him is pretty. Most of the Paine brothers have a brutal edge to them, but he’s traditionally handsome with a strong jaw, sensual lips, and nice, high cheekbones. He’s kept his hair at a length just longer than a buzz cut, and it leaves his features in stark relief. Paired with his broad shoulders and strong body, it creates quite the image.

Sleeping with him is going to be no hardship.

Especially since he’s already shown he’s so easy to provoke.

“You’re not worried about your uncle?”

I almost laugh. As if my uncle isn’t one of the best warriors our faction has to offer. It doesn’t matter what his history with Ezekiel Paine is; he’ll handle himself tonight. “Jasper will be fine.” I tilt my head to the side, smiling widely and enjoying the way Broderick’s jaw clenches in response. I can do nothing to help my sister right now. Best to get this over with and find her in the morning. “Are you stalling, dear husband? If someone weren’t paying attention, they might think you’re scared of little old me.”

“I’m not stalling.” He spins on his heels and resumes his march toward the door that’s obviously our destination. It looks identical to the other doors on the side walls of the warehouse—plain and gray.

I cast one last look at the space behind me and force myself to put aside my worry about Winry. She’ll be okay. She might be soft, but she’s still an Amazon. Someone soft in our faction is still someone a thousand times more capable than anyone else.

The room Broderick leads me to isn’t anything to write home about. It’s spartan in decorations, containing only a bed, a wardrobe, and nothing else. There is a door to what appears to be a private bathroom, which is something, at least.

I turn as Broderick shuts the door. He seems to make himself look at me, and I don’t imagine the heat in his eyes. He wants me. He doesn’t want to want me, but the desire is there all the same. Silly man. Between that and the way he was making heart eyes at the pretty brunette, he’s all but handed me the keys to the kingdom, along with a map to navigate his pressure points.

He motions at the bed. “Let’s make this quick. We don’t have to have sex—”

“Yeah, no. I don’t care how you’ve played this out in your head, but you won yourself a Bride, and you’re going to do this properly.” It’s necessary to ensure the Bridal peace holds…so when I go back to my people at the end of this year, I’ll have all the information I need to crush the Raider faction once and for all.

In the years since Broderick and his brothers were driven out of Sabine Valley, the Raider faction has become the weakest of the three. No matter how brilliant Eli Walsh is at leadership, he never reclaimed what the Paine family had previously accomplished. Eight years is a long time. It means Abel and the others are an unknown quantity. The fact they were able to infiltrate the city long enough to stage that show at Lammas means they’re a threat in a big way.

I’m the Amazon heir. It’s my job to step between my people and whatever threats arise. If that means I need to crawl into bed and ride Broderick’s cock until he passes out to ensure we have a year of peace, then I’ll do it. I would do it anyways, because I want to. But a year? It’s a long time to gather information on the Paine brothers while they can’t move against us. I’d be a fool to let that opportunity go by unexploited.

I am no fool.

I start for the bathroom door. “Give me two seconds to shower the blood off, husband.”

“Don’t call me that.”

I don’t bother to hide my smile as I glance over my shoulder, and his flinch in response is more than reward enough. “How on earth did you survive this long with skin that thin?”

Broderick opens his mouth, seems to reconsider whatever he was about to say, and huffs out a breath. “I don’t have thin skin.”

“All evidence points to the contrary.” I step into the bathroom and almost laugh. It’s just as spartan as the bedroom itself; it’s entirely white tile with only a sink, toilet, and showerhead. It’s also positioned in such a way that if I leave the door open, anyone in the bedroom will be able to see the entire bathroom. Good for security and ensuring a captive doesn’t get into trouble. Bad for Broderick’s blood pressure.

I turn on the shower and pull off my clothing slowly. I can feel his eyes on me. I know what I look like. Beauty is just another weapon in my arsenal, and Broderick might hate me, but he’s affected. Maybe he hates me because he’s affected. Even knowing him all of one evening is enough to make me suspect that’s the truth.

When I’m naked, I step beneath the spray and tilt my head back. The earlier fight in the arena wasn’t a particularly long or brutal one, but my knuckles sting and my thigh is a little sore where that bitch got in a few good kicks. Juniper of the Mystics isn’t heir, and every time I deal with her, I have cause to be grateful for that fact. She’s a blunt instrument waiting for a hand to wield her. She’s got a temper, and she’s remarkably easy to bait. If I’d been fighting her older sister, Fallon, the fight wouldn’t have been nearly as simple.

I slick my hair back. Fallon is a Bride, too. I wonder how she’s taking the consummation. That woman has ice in her veins, and she’s as feral as a wolf when it comes to… Well, literally anything. Poor little Gabriel Paine. He’s bitten off more than he can chew, too.

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