Wicked Edge

Her hands trembled, so she tucked them discreetly in her pockets. “Yes.”


Fury. Hot and bright, the emotion blazed through the enforcer’s eyes. A swell of terrifying, searing, snapping heat filled the room. Anger etched into the hard line of his rugged jaw, and his lips pressed together. She took an involuntary step back.

Nick cleared his throat. “So, Felicity. How was the luxury cruise?”

She pierced him with a hard look. “Lovely. Thank you for asking.” She tried to summon dignity, but considering she wore no makeup, her hair had dried full of salt water, her jeans were too tight and her sweater was too large, she didn’t have much to work with.

“Everybody get the fuck out of my flat,” Daire ordered.

A ball slammed into her gut. She really had enjoyed their night together and had hoped they could remain at least friendly. Gently, she took her son’s vibrating arm. “Let’s go talk.”

Daire slowly, way too slowly, shook his head. “Oh no . . . Felicity. You’re staying here. We’re overdue for a little chat.”

She shivered, and a warning blast of heat flicked her skin.

Logan growled, Nick half turned, and even Garrett pushed clear of the table.

Testosterone, a whole barrel of it, rolled through the room like a prelude to a hurricane.

She shook her head. Logan was seconds from charging, and while Nick would try to stop the fight, in the end, he’d fight with Logan. Garrett was Logan’s best friend, and while he respected Daire, he’d have Logan’s back. “Are you crazy?” she whispered.

“If I am, it’s because of the last three days,” Daire said evenly, anger still swelling from him. “They want to fight? We’ll fight. But in the end, baby, you and I are having a long overdue discussion.”

Felicity winced. Her son wouldn’t like the baby comment.

Yep. Logan exploded.

He hit Daire full on, propelling them into the door. The steel door cracked. Daire grabbed his lapels, pivoted, and slammed Logan up hard. Surprisingly, neither Garrett nor Nick moved.

“Listen, kid, believe me, I get it.” Daire slowly lowered Logan. “But here’s the deal. Your mom’s an adult, and this is none of your business.” Daire released him and took a step back.

“I’m going to kill you.” Logan’s voice shook with rage, and he bunched his fists.

Felicity hustled forward. “Logan Henry Kyllwood.” She put every ounce of motherly snap she owned into the words.

He slowly turned his gaze from Daire to her. “What?”

She put her hands to her hips. “I realize this is confusing, but you will not provoke a fight. Got it?”

His ears turned red. Then his head went back. “Wait a minute.”

She bit her lip.

He cocked his head to the side, glanced at Daire, and then looked back at her. “There is no way I should smell him on you. You used the mutated virus?”

How did she admit to her son that she’d voluntarily undergone an experimental procedure to negate the mating bond she’d had with his father? “Logan, I—”

“Mom!” he exploded. “What the fuck?”

Daire put him back into the door with one hand. “Knock it off.”

Logan swiped Daire’s arm away. “You touch me again, and I’ll fucking rip off your head, witch.”

Oddly enough, Logan’s anger seemed to sweep some of Daire’s away. “That’s fair,” Daire said. He rubbed the back of his head. “Listen up. Your mom was in a fight with a witch, attacked by a polar bear, in a helicopter wreck, and nearly drowned.”

Logan’s mouth dropped open, and his eyes widened. “Mom?” he gasped.

She tried to keep from glaring at Daire. Her son didn’t need to know any of those facts. “I’m fine.”

“Who’s the witch she fought with?” Logan asked, his chin lowering.

Approval lit Daire’s eyes, and his lips twitched. “A mercenary by the name of Vegar. He’s polar bear food at this point.”

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