Chapter 5 Blood Bonds
Blood Bonds
Everything.
The word echoed in the silence like a funeral bell tolling for her former life.
Marigold’s hands fisted in the oversized sweater, knuckles bleaching white against charcoal wool.
Her mind raced through impossible calculations.
The storm outside that promised certain death.
The men surrounding her offered something potentially worse.
The only other option was to say fuck off and let them turn her in.
But it would only be a matter of time before her family found her.
The blond lowered to the bed with the others, his pale eyes holding warmth but no mercy. “The question is, printsessa, are you intelligent enough to survive us?”
Something flashed in his cold eyes. A dare, perhaps. He looked at her as if he already knew all her secrets.
“I can survive anything that doesn’t kill me.”
His full lips stretched into a slow smile. “I’m counting on it.”
His confidence in her put her strangely at ease. Of the three men, the blond seemed the safest. Or maybe she was just too desperate to face reality.
“We need to hear it from your mouth, little rabbit.” The long-haired one watched her with that deep green stare. “Your full consent.”
The blond, now trapping her legs, teased his finger higher. “We can actually be quite generous.”
“Generous?” The word emerged strangled, disbelieving. “You’re talking about—”
“Mutual benefit,” he interrupted smoothly.
The silent one leaned back into the pillows beside her, no longer bothering to restrain her. She caught that intoxicating scent again, wild and dark. The less he said, the more intimidating he became to her.
“Lost, alone, perhaps on the run, in the dead of winter… You need protection,” the blond said rationally. “We need entertainment.”
A sound rumbled from the dark giant at her back like an avalanche racing toward her. “Entertainment. That’s one way to describe it.”
She glanced at him for a split second, and her eyes darted away. What gave a man so many scars on his face and hands?
“You don’t even know what I’m running from.”
“We don’t care.”
“Here, we’re judge and jury on all that matters. If you work with us, we’ll see that nothing bad comes for you.”
Was it really that easy? She had no doubt they possessed the power to defend her in this fortress they called home. But was it nuts to trust them? They could also turn on her, lie, or trick her. “Why should I trust you?”
“You shouldn’t,” the scarred one at her back said, matter-of-factly.
His callous tone sent dread worming through her insides. Then he touched her, and she stilled. “You should fear us. Not because we’re bigger. Not because there are three of us and one of you. You should fear us because it’s wise.”
“Not to mention,” The green-eyed one added, “that delicious tang fear adds to a woman’s taste.”
Unwelcome heat bloomed in her belly as hands tightened over her flesh ever so slightly. Around her hip, between her thighs, loosely framing her wrists as if to deliver an unspoken message.
“You want to push my hand away,” the one with the green eyes taunted, voice thick with suspicious distrust.
It was a test. They told her the terms. Now, she had to honor them. She bet he loved scaring women with his enormous size and all those terrifying tattoos and scars. He looked like he’d escaped a Norse tribe.
She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of cowering, so she lifted her chin defiantly. Showing him she was stronger than she looked.
“Ah, there’s that strong will I caught sight of last night.” Those attentive green eyes teased her with mocking approval. “Chased in by the cold. I was the one who unlocked the door for you, you know?”
Because he took pity on her or because he saw her as prey and wanted to lure her deeper into his domain?
“What better option do you have?” the blond asked.
He studied her with the intensity of a predator scenting prey. She’d once read that when faced with a wild animal, like a wild bear in nature, the best thing to do was scare it. The minute a person ran, it became a game, and the bears always won.
She wasn’t going to show them fear. No matter how much they scared her, she would not give them the satisfaction of knowing she was afraid.
She needed to show them she wasn’t a weak little woman or some pitiful concubine to pass their wasted time. “What exactly do you think I am?” she demanded, anger flaring despite her precarious position. “As a Langford—”
“Cut the crap.” The blond rolled his eyes. “Rich girls don’t wash up on remote islands alone. They arrive in private jets with security details and enough luggage to outfit small armies.”
“Maybe I’m not that rich.”
“Your coat disagrees.” The blond held up the ruined cashmere, flashing the Hermès tag. “Or is it Mary’s coat? I’ve never been great with names, printsessa.”
Marigold’s heart plummeted into her stomach.
They didn’t believe her. Now would be the time to admit her identity and belongings were stolen.
She honestly wasn’t sure if the lies were making matters worse or helping her.
But she had the sinking fear that it was only a matter of time before they found all her secrets out. Then what would they do to her?
“You want to tell us the truth,” Green Eyes said. “I can see it in your eyes, the desire to unburden yourself and be free from the lies.” He caught her chin when she tried to look away, forcing her to face him. Face the truth.
She shut her eyes, and he let her go.
“Stolen invitation, stolen identity, stolen coat, probably stolen shoes. I wonder if she paid for the manicure.”
These men noticed everything. The quiet one’s gaze raked over her hands, and she instinctively curled her fingers to hide evidence of her privileged upbringing. “You’re wrong about everything.” Even to her own ears, her words lacked conviction.
“Are we?” The playful one at her legs lowered his chest, further caging her in at the knees. Heat radiated from his powerful frame. “Prove it. Tell us who you really are.”
The weight of their combined attention pressed down on her like a physical force.
Three pairs of eyes—emerald green, black obsidian, and ice-blue—all focused on her with laser intensity.
They were waiting for her to crack, to spill secrets that would destroy the fragile new life she was trying to build.
She couldn’t do it. Wouldn’t do it.
“I told you my name. It’s Mary Langford. I was visiting when I got caught in a storm.”
The rugged one snorted with derision. “Bullshit.”
“Hunter,” the blond’s voice carried a note of warning that could have frozen summer rain. “Leave it.”
Hunter… How oddly fitting for a man who made her feel trapped since the moment she first saw him.
“Leave it?” Hunter’s attention snapped to the blond with incredulous fury. “Every word out of that pretty mouth is a goddamn lie.”
“That doesn’t matter.” The blond’s tone was perfectly controlled, perfectly reasonable, the voice of a man accustomed to being obeyed. “She’s here. She’s agreeable. What difference does it make who she was before?”
Before.
The word hung in the air like smoke after the flame. Marigold realized that, to these men, her past was already dead. Maybe so was she. Even Mary Langford—or whoever she claimed to be—would cease to exist the moment she agreed to their terms. Agreed to be theirs.
What if this was merely them playing with their food and they never planned to let her go?
“The difference,” Hunter growled, voice dropping with malice, “is that secrets are poison. What if she came here for a reason? Someone could be looking for her. We don’t know who she’s working with.”
“Look at her.” The handsy, green-eyed Viking said as he caressed her thigh, dragging his warm palm slowly upward. “She’s already agreed whether she’s admitted it out loud or not. You guys are bickering about irrelevant bullshit.”
Her thighs pressed together, stopping his hand from traveling any further. He stilled, their eyes locking in challenge. He could have easily overpowered her. Instead, he released her thigh and rolled casually to his side. “We all know how this is going to end.”
“Stone,” the blond said in warning. “Until she agrees, nothing is promised.”
“Use your head,” Hunter, the largest of the three, snapped. “She’s making it too easy because she’s hiding something. Stop thinking with your dick.”
“You’re paranoid.” Stone glanced up at her with those penetrating green eyes. “There will be plenty of time to get to the truth. Our little thief isn’t going anywhere. Are you, sweetheart?”
The endearment sent heat spiraling through her chest like liquid fire. He wasn’t her ally, but he wanted her to believe he was.
She glanced out the window at the steel-wool sky, coarse and laden with dark clouds as the relentless blizzard locked her in. Stone’s hypnotic touch returned to her leg, unraveling something inside of her as he traced small circles against her skin.
“Such a long winter…” he teased, tracing his finger higher. She should pull away, should be disgusted by his presumption. Instead, she forced herself to relax under the contact like a flower unfurling beneath the sun.
She needed them. And they wanted her. It was a steep price, but the cost of her survival.
Sensing her agreeability, his mouth curved with a slow grin. “You’ll learn, in time, that I have ways of getting women to talk. Hell, I’ve even made a few drop to their knees and pray.”
“Do we have your agreement?” the blond pressed, reminding the others, “Nothing happens without her consent.”
How strange that they required such an intangible accord when they clearly held all the power.
Their cards weren’t on the table, but hers were.
She was a body with a stolen identity, desperate to protect her secrets and willing to do anything to survive.
They didn’t care if she lay in a bed of lies, as long as she understood it was theirs and submitted to their absolute authority while under their roof.