body hummed, plucked by the promise of his desire.
Then he pulled back and spoke in a tone of non-negotiation. “Now tell me what’s wrong.”
“It’s bad,” she breathed.
In a smooth motion, he turned with her in his arms and set her on the stool Tommy had filled minutes before. Kris knelt in front of her, one hand spread over her thigh and the other tangling lightly with her fingers. “I’ll help if I can.”
She swallowed. “You can’t.”
But she relayed her conversation with Zara, and Aron’s old manservant, and the owner of the Bull’s Quest. As Kris sat down hard on the bathroom floor, face bloodless, she told him that while the circumstantial evidence was strong enough to bring Adam in for questioning, the authorities wanted to search his apartment for something concrete and they were currently waiting on the search warrant.
“Mark,” was all he said, the word absolute and terrified.
“I’ve tightened security at the estate and lined up extra protection measures for tonight. We’ll protect him.”
His attention locked on her, eyes burning with blue fear.
“I promise,” she said, and her head cleared with purpose.
“It’s Adam.” Kris’s grip on her thigh hardened and she felt a charge travel through him. Fury broke across his face. “He’s in their house every day. Alone with Mark. Close to Ava and Darius. He could do anything. Why the hell aren’t we moving?”
She covered his hand with hers, curling her fingers tight. “We don’t believe he’ll hurt them. He’s waiting.”
“For what?”
Dread tried to knock the wind out of her, but she did her best to wrangle it, reshape it, wear it like armor on her shoulders. This was why she would fight. Because she couldn’t bear to lose.
“We believe he’s waiting for a chance to take all three of you down at once.”
Kris swore, dropping his forehead onto her knee.
“As far as most people are aware, the balcony collapse was an accident. But two separate instances of royal deaths? That would throw the collapse into retrospective suspicion. It’s not what he wants. If he kills you all together, the royal line ends. You’re the last of the Jaroka heirs. Once that happens, whether he gets caught or not is irrelevant.”
“Where is he now?” he demanded. “This very second?”
“He should be.” She locked her jaw against an icy flood of what-ifs. “It’s critical you don’t give us away, Kris. We need him there long enough for the warrant to come through and the authorities to search the apartment. Please?”
He rose to his feet. “You’re saying I have to pretend to be happy in the same room as the man who might have ordered the attack on Tommy and Jonah? Who killed my uncles and cousin? Whose unhinged actions dragged me and my brothers from our home? The man who likely wants us all dead to culminate some crazy antiestablishment rebellion?”
“Yes.”
He swore again.
“Mark and Tommy can’t know. There’s not enough time for them to process it.” Concerned, she stood beside him. “You know that, right? Kris. You have to act normal. If he suspects we know about him, it’ll put you all at risk.”
“I know, but I need you to keep me updated.” He ran his tongue along his back teeth, shaking his head. “I won’t hold it together if I’m left in the dark.”
“I will.” She didn’t need agitation eating him alive. “I’ll give Peter permission to relay information as we get it.”
He nodded once, reaction laboring inside him. His breath was fast, his shoulders straining.
“There is one other option,” she said, almost carefully. “You could not go tonight.”
His gaze snapped to her in outrage.
“I know.” She hated suggesting it—how badly she wished he’d agree. “But if only two of you are there, it could reduce the chance of Adam acting out.”
“I can’t.” Kris shook his head. “I get your logic, but—I can’t.”
She nodded and murmured, “Okay.”
“Hey.” Reaching out, he drew her against him and pressed his lips to her temple. His mouth was hot; his body locked with tension. “You’re doing an amazing job. This is fucked, but you’re doing it, and I love you.”
Her breath shook over his shirt pocket. “Thank you.”
“I mean it,” he said, then released her and turned to leave.
“Kris,” she said, and he stilled in the archway. “Promise me something.”
Resistance rolled across his shoulders as he looked back at her. He seethed with an alpha-powered protectiveness. His features were feral with vengeance, body taut with volatility. A man who’d locked eyes