Ziva was on her knees with her head bowed, and her hands resting on her thighs, every muscle in her body coiled tight. Her sisters stood in the far corner of the room, watching the scene with tense expressions, each of them careful not to draw their father’s anger towards themselves.
"Why," Angus thundered, "did you send Lilian after Violet? Did I order you to?"
Ziva looked up, her expression composed even as her heartbeat drummed against her ribs. "I only wanted to make an introduction," she said. "Violet has to know we have an eye on her."
"Oh?" Angus’s tone turned to ice. "You have an eye on her?"
At that question, Ziva lowered her eyes again, her lips tightening. "No."
That earned her a mirthless laugh from Angus. It wasn’t humor, but mockery, the kind that scraped like broken glass across pride. A flush burned right beneath Ziva’s pale skin.
Perhaps it’s the magic in Violet’s blood, or she was blocking her out with something, but Ziva couldn’t spy or scry her whereabouts. Not even with her mother’s bloodcraft ability. So she had sent Lilian to get her DNA. And she failed woefully.
The silence that followed was suffocating.
Then, without warning, Angus seized her by the front of her dress, dragging her up enough that her knees scraped against the stone floor.
His voice dropped, low and lethal. "If you make a move on Violet without my command again..." His head turned toward the others, his eyes sweeping over them. "Any of you.... you’ll have me to face that day."
He shoved Ziva back, releasing her as though she were something foul, and stormed from the room. His footsteps faded, leaving the air brittle and unmoving.
No one spoke. Not until Layla, the one who never knew when to keep her mouth shut, broke the silence.
"Why does he even act careful around Violet? As powerful as she is, she can’t take all of us alone."
"Because she’s the daughter of his mate," Ziva spat, venom dripping from every word.
Just like that, everyone was reminded of his father’s Fae mate. As cold-hearted as Angus was, the loss of a mate was a death of its own that gnawed at him endlessly.
That was why he’d immediately turned to Sarah, Ziva’s mother. She had drowned his heartbreak in magical dopamine until he could breathe without choking on it. But everyone knew the truth: mates who rejected each other rotted in longing until eternity ended.
Perhaps it had to contribute to why he was partial towards Violet. But then, no one ever knew what Angus was thinking. Not even them.
Lilian, freshly healed by the twins and leaning against the wall, had the bad sense to shift uncomfortably under Ziva’s stare. She didn’t have time to brace herself before Ziva’s hand cracked across her face.
Lilian hit the ground hard.
"I gave you one simple task," Ziva snarled, kicking her in the ribs. "And you fuck it up?"
She kicked her again. "Pathetic!"
Enya, perched on a chair with childlike curiosity, clapped her small hands and giggled. Her twisted delight was the kind only a demon’s corrupted soul could produce.
Hannah looked away, exhaling through her nose. She had no patience for this petty, ugly display of power.
Ziva kept going until Lilian’s breath came in shallow bursts. Only then did she straighten, smoothing her hair as though she hadn’t just beaten her sister bloody.
"Get out of my sight," she ordered.
Lilian didn’t need to be told twice. She stumbled to her feet and left, clutching her side. The others said nothing. In this family, silence wasn’t cowardice, it was survival most times.
"Are you going to leave this alone?" Layla asked from where she lounged, her tone a lazy challenge. "I haven’t seen you back down from a fight before."
Ziva didn’t answer, but the glint in her eyes was enough. Angus’s warning might as well have evaporated into the cold air between them.
Lauren pointed out. "Earlier when she woke, Lilian said something interesting about Roman Draven, the other Cardinal Alpha, acting all possessive, and the room reeked of sex. Isn’t our dear sister mated to Griffin Hale? She couldn’t be getting it on with Roman too, right? They say mates are territorial."
Layla laughed in a way that made you feel stupid for even opening your mouth. "You ask such silly questions, Sister. Violet still has our blood. If Father is any example, then you know she wouldn’t be any different from him. Power doesn’t settle for one. It takes, and takes, until nothing’s left."
Then her lips curved into a slow, feline smile. "Although I get why our dear sister would want Roman Draven. That man’s like a sex god..." Her voice dropped to a purr, thick with lust. "If we could get him in bed with us, it would be heaven."
She leaned toward Lauren as the space between them vanished in a kiss that was far from innocent. It was slow at first, a slide of lips, then deepening until they reached for each other’s hair and their mouths moved with greedy familiarity. Lauren’s hand slipped beneath Layla’s jaw, tilting her head for better access, the wet sound of their kissing echoing in the room.
So they weren’t hiding it anymore. Hannah turned her head away, disgust tightening her features. Her gaze, unfortunately, collided with Ziva’s.
Unlike her, Ziva didn’t seem the least bit bothered. Why would she? In this family, the word "abominable" meant nothing. And if anyone’s relationships deserved that word, Ziva’s certainly did.
With the heavy petting going on between the twins right now, Hannah would bet they could strip naked in front of her and Ziva wouldn’t so much as blink. Hell, she might even join them.
"You."
Hannah’s focus snapped back to Ziva at the sound of her voice. There was a strange realization in her sister’s eyes, the kind that made Hannah feel like she’d just been labeled as a weapon.
"Me?" Hannah pointed at herself, wary. She didn’t like that look. Not one bit.
"Yes, you," Ziva said, straightening to her full height. "I want you to leave the village and go on a secret mission for me."
That doesn’t sound good. However, she didn’t show her discomfort.
"What is it?"
Ziva’s lips stretched into a smile that showed too many teeth. "I want you to keep an eye on Violet Purple for me."
Oh, shit.
Hannah swallowed hard. This could either be the dream she’d been waiting for, or the nightmare that killed her.