Saoirse
“Fine, Blackthorne. You can handle her,” the Elder growled, his voice lined with iron. His jaw ticked like he was biting down on the leash of his fury. “But if you cause another mess… you won’t be able to play the game next time.”
Cyrus Blackthorne only smirked, all cocky and cruel. That trademark tilt of his head, like he already owned the world—and me with it.
He nodded once, slowly. “Don’t worry. I’ll handle her just right.”
And everyone knew. Everyone except my mother… and their father. They thought I’d been attacked by rogues. No one dared whisper the truth—that I’d been stripped of my pride, made a spectacle at that cursed party. Humiliated.
Jennie leaned in, brushing her lips near my ear with a wicked grin. “Good luck, girl. Try not to melt when he looks at you. Wouldn’
