20
The instant Brook had uttered the words, the intensity in Clive’s eyes consumed her. His fingers brushed across the bruising on her cheekbone and along her throat, before he hooked them over the neck of the shirt she wore and gave a gentle tug. “Where?”
She knew he meant to physically Mark her. A branding of claim-ship. Of submission on her part. One that would ensure her immunity from the other Toms—at least for a little while.
Yet, she hesitated, her mind flashing to Kyle at the idea of his territory being compromised.
Is it, though? Could she still even be considered his?
His family would argue otherwise. Her own family already had. Did the unobtainable idea of Kyle even continue to exist?
Either way, she could not remain a puppet of the Coalition, hidden away as she awaited he
