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One of his fingers prodded me too sharply, and I gasped in pain. “You didn’t tell me he was in your dreams. ”

Ignoring the obvious jealousy in his voice, I powered on, the ache of his touch still radiating over my collarbone. “As it turns out, I might have a little of his blood in me after all. ”

I thought he might choke me, his hands clenched so hard.

“What does that mean?”

“In biblical terms?” Maybe not the best word choice since getting biblical was a euphemism for sex he was probably familiar with. “I don’t mean like that,” I quickly added.

“Secret, just tell me what you’re talking about. ”

“Sig begat Theo. ” I held up one finger then lifted a second. “Theo begat Sutherland. ” Raising a third and final finger, I concluded, “Sutherland begat Secret. ” Letting my hand drop, I angled my head back to look up at him. “Get it?”

“Let me get this straight…you and Sig are related. ”

“Not related. We share a bloodline. ”

“Which is literally the definition of being related. ”

“Okay, maybe, but we’re not related the way Sutherland and I are. Or the way Mercy and I are. ”

“But still related. ” He looked downright gleeful.

I propped myself up on one elbow and stared at him. “You seem awfully happy about this. ”

“You have no idea. ” He leaned in and planted a kiss on my lips. It was brief, not passionate, and when he pulled back, he was still beaming like a Cheshire cat. “This is great news. ”

“I’ve been lied to about my entire lineage, and that’s a positive thing?”

“Not for you, maybe. But for me. ”

I scrunched my face up, getting into a cross-legged position and sitting so I faced him. When I figured out what he was giddy about, my gut response was to slap him, but I held back. “Oh God, Holden. Are you seriously grinning like an idiot because you think this takes Sig out of the running for a place in my bed?”

“Yes,” he replied without hesitation. I reconsidered my restraint and smacked him hard upside the head, but it didn’t rattle his smile.

“Sig has never been in my bed. ”

“You’ve been in bed with Sig. ”

“Ugh, that’s a gross use of semantics. ” Since I couldn’t say I’ve never slept with him, I added, “I’ve never had sex with Sig. ”

“Doesn’t mean he wasn’t trying. ”

“You mean like you were trying?”

“I tried for seven years. I got there eventually. ” He winked, like I’d find it charming.

“You’re lucky I love you, you stupid pervert. ” I whacked him in the arm. “But you had nothing to worry about with Sig. ”

“Sig gets what he wants. He wanted you. ”

“Did it ever occur to you I didn’t want to be with him?”

“No. I’ve met him. I know him. At some point you would have wanted to be with him. ”

I didn’t deny it outright because there’d been a time when I had wondered what it would be like to be with the Tribunal Leader. He did have an undeniable appeal to him. But above and beyond any attraction was my deep-seated terror of him. Whether or not we were related, my reasons for not sleeping with him existed long before. Sex was about trust, and though I trusted Sig as a leader, I wouldn’t leave my throat exposed to him in a dark alley.

And if I wouldn’t expose my throat, I sure as hell wouldn’t hike my skirt up for him.


Tags: Sierra Dean Secret McQueen Paranormal