Warlord (Anathema Book 1) by Lana Grayson Page A

loyal.”
    “Right. After
today, I’m not sure I would consider them my brothers.”
    “We’ll see.”
    The weight
binding my chest only constricted my words in a hush of panic. I ignored his
gaze.
    “I’m not a
whore,” I said.
    Thorne leaned
away, resting his arm on the edge of his chair. His shirt stretched taut over
his strength. The leather cut rode stiff over his muscles.
    “I didn’t call
you a whore.”
    “And forcing my
brothers to deliver me to you?  In the middle of the night? Bringing me
to your bedroom ?”
    “You can take
your clothes off if you like. It’d make this conversation more interesting.”
    “And if I
don’t?”
    “Then you stay
dressed.” His eyes narrowed, a threat of chilled indifference. “I’m not going
to fuck you.”
    I flinched at
the word, but I leapt at the sincerity in his voice.
    “You aren’t?”
    “Disappointed?”
    “I—no.” I
swallowed before my voice warbled into a new octave. “I don’t understand.”
    “What’s there to
understand?”
    “You’re
just...offering me protection?”
    Thorne tapped
his fingers next to the gun. “Are you refusing?”
    “I don’t think I
can.”
    “You’d be
right.”
    “I’m not sure what
my brothers told you—”
    Thorne didn’t
need to speak or move to interrupt me. The sting of his stare stole my words. “They
told me everything I needed to hear. You need to be kept safe.”
    “So you’re...my
bodyguard?”
    “Unless you’d
rather be my prisoner?”
    I shook my head.
    “Then we’ve come
to an understanding.”
    I sucked in a
breath. “No, we haven’t. I don’t know why I need protecting. Or why you have to
do it. Or why I’m even at Pixie.”
    “This is where
I’m staying,” Thorne said. “And you’re here because you’re staying with me.”
    “Where?”
    He gestured over
the room.
    “Here?”
    He nodded.
    My gaze graced his
most ominous piece of furniture.
    “There’s only
one bed here.”
    Thorne grinned.
    “I told you I’m
not a whore.”
    He didn’t look
away from me. “You could sleep in the bar with all the other men tonight, but I
don’t think you’d get much rest out there either. You’ve grown up... Bud .”
    God damn it. I
pushed away from the table, but his voice thickened with unrepentant command.
    “We’re not done.
Sit down.”
    The chair
recaptured me. I wondered if Thorne needed ropes and chains to restrain
someone, or if he’d bend their own will to strap them down.
    He hadn’t
threatened me. Hadn’t even raised his voice. But Thorne ruled as though
everything he touched, everything he wanted, anyone he saw, belonged to him. And
it wasn’t stage presence. Even my best performances of my own original material
would be lost within his conquest.
    I didn’t need a
patch to harbor my demons. My own scarred monster burrowed within me. Doubt.
Uncertainty. Submission. It was far easier to surrender to an authority like
his than it was to admit the shame of admiration I felt in his shadow.
    His power
enthralled me. And, like everything anathema, offering myself to his will would
lose me to the very hells of the world.
    His studied me. He
wasn’t old—only mid-thirties. His hair hadn’t even started to gray like Brew’s.
He let it grow long, though his thick jaw cleared of even the faintest stubble.
Meticulous with a blade. I didn’t need to wonder where he learned the steady
hand.
    “What do you
want from me?” I asked.
    “I was going to
ask the same question.”
    “Because you’re
so magnanimous?”
    “I live to
serve,” Thorne shrugged. The rise of his broad shoulders only made him appear
larger. “What is it that you want most?  If you’re a good girl, I might make it
happen.”
    “I want to go
home.”
    “No.”
    “You can’t just
keep me here.”
    “I already am.” He
offered me a heavy moment of silence while he surveyed the table. “Seems pretty
damn easy actually.”
    I wished his
voice hadn’t carried the insult so smoothly. It layered on