I make my way down to the second floor and knock on Ezekiel’s door. He doesn’t make me wait long, but when he opens it, all I can do is stare. He’s shirtless, his lean body covered in scratches. That’s not what shocks me. No, it’s the fact that he has both Beatrix and Jasper handcuffed to his bed, wearing nothing but underwear. Ezekiel leans against the doorjamb as if that is not a huge fucking red flag. “Need something?”
“Zeke?” His childhood nickname pops out of my mouth. “What the hell is happening here?”
“Don’t worry about it.”
I really wish that were an option. Hell, I wish that the only reason I cared was because of the potential fallout of having the Amazon queen’s younger brother and the leader of the Mystic’s younger sister cuffed. The truth is that it doesn’t matter who they are. This isn’t okay.
Ezekiel used to be a nice kid. Sweet, even. The kind of innocent that even Gabriel never quite accomplished. All that changed with the exile. The past eight years, he’s gotten colder and colder, until he rivals Cohen for being the most monstrous of us.
This is too far, even for him. This is too far for anyone.
I shake my head slowly. “You know I have to worry about it.” Abel oversees everything. Cohen runs our soldiers. I’m in charge of the household. “Move out of the way.”
Ezekiel lifts a brow and moves back. “By all means, please play the hero for these two. Your concern isn’t required.” He lifts his voice. “Do you want me to release you, Beatrix?”
She glares daggers at the back of his head. “No.”
“Jasper?”
Jasper’s look isn’t filled with violence, but he doesn’t look particularly pleased, either. “No. We’re fine.”
I really wish I could believe them. I move past my brother and take in the rest of the room. There are the remnants of a destroyed chair on the floor, and one of the paintings has fallen off the wall. Or been knocked off, more likely. On the large bed, Beatrix and Jasper are side by side, their wrists cuffed to the headboard with padded bondage gear. It’s designed not to damage the skin, though I haven’t had reason to use it myself.
They both have a scattering of bruises, and Jasper has a set of scratches to match Ezekiel’s. I meet both their gazes in turn. “Leave the room, Ezekiel.”
“You’re wasting your time.” But he does as I ask, slamming the door behind him.
I cross my arms over my chest and stare at the two people on the bed. “Answer honestly—are you consenting to this? If you’re not, I’ll get you out.”
Beatrix snorts. She’s attractive in the way the ruling Mystic family seems to be—red hair, pale skin, eerie gray eyes. She’s softer than her niece Fallon…though she’s not as soft as her nephew Matteo. Being soft doesn’t make her less dangerous, though. She looks at me like I’m something she’d like to scrape off the bottom of her shoe. “We’re fine. Run along, nursemaid.”
“Bea,” Jasper murmurs. He’s Monroe’s uncle, but I see none of her in him. In the Amazon faction, there is always a queen and never a king, but our information on Jasper says he’s not particularly ambitious. He does what needs to be done, but he has no designs to change Amazon culture and take the crown for himself. He’s also got a reputation for being a soothing force on Beatrix’s temper.
He meets my gaze steadily, his hazel eyes giving nothing away. “We’re fine. We chose this.”
I want to argue, but it’s not my business what bedroom games Ezekiel gets up to…as long as everyone is on the same page. “If that changes—”
“It won’t.” Beatrix stretches out on the bed with a sigh. “Now leave us alone, Broderick Paine. I’m sure you have an Amazon heir to corral.”
At that, Jasper’s gaze sharpens. “How’s Monroe holding up?”
I’m not sure how to answer that. She’s so fucking bulletproof, it never occurred to me that she might be having issues. Not that I care. I certainly fucking don’t. “She’s Monroe. I’m sure she’s somewhere starting a riot or setting something on fire.”
He snorts. “Yeah. Sure.”
It seems that there’s nothing else to do here. If they insist they consented to this, then stepping in isn’t going to do anything but cause some bullshit for no reason. I straighten. “I guess I’ll leave you to it.”
“About damn time,” Beatrix mutters.
“Bea.” Jasper gives me a winning smile that’s only slightly dampened by the fact he’s wearing black briefs and covered in scratches and bruises. “I would like to see my niece. Soon.”
“I’ll see what I can do.” I turn around and stride out of the room.
Ezekiel is waiting in the hallway, leaning against the wall and glaring. “Well?”
“You know I had to check.”
“Did you? Because they’re the enemy.”
This is the reminder I wanted, the reason I sought him out to begin with, but… “We don’t torture people.”
“Don’t we?” He laughs roughly. “Maybe you don’t. When Abel needs someone to get their hands dirty, Cohen and I don’t get precious about it.”
“Zeke—” I don’t know how to fix this, how to fix him. Like me, he’s unraveled in his own way since coming back to Sabine Valley. Fuck, I can’t even fix my own head; how am I supposed to give my little brother advice? “If you want to talk—”
“I don’t.” He looks away. “Did you need something else or did you just show up to check on us?”
I bite back my questions. Ultimately, we’ve all made our own choices about how we’re going to go forward and survive. Survival is all that matters. It’s all that’s ever mattered. “Why did you let Beatrix stay? She’s not your Bride; Jasper is.”
“I picked him to punish them both.” He shrugs. “Having her here just makes it easier to deal out that punishment.”
I knew the answer before I asked the question, didn’t I? “Are they sorry?”
Ezekiel finally looks at me. “Who the fuck
