BREE’S POV
My stomach drops. He isn’t bluffing. He is actually going to do it.
I glance frantically at the others, expecting someone, anyone, to intervene.
But Gideon just breathes out a dark, highly entertained chuckle, slouching deeper into the couch.
Beside him, Caspian completely ignores the impending psychopathic violence, calmly reaching out to pick up a glass of bourbon as if Kaiven is just stepping out to check the mail.
Neither of them gives a single damn.
I have no choice.
I launch myself off the leather cushion and lunge after Kaiven, my hands grabbing onto his thick, tattooed bicep to physically pull him back.
It is a completely futile, laughable effort—he is a literal wall of solid muscle who could crush me with two fingers—but the absolute second my skin makes contact
