Page 86 of Dark Gambit: The Play

"You've just let slip that you're related to Igor's second-in-command. You're not the innocent victim you portrayed yourself to be."

Throwing her hands in the air, Sofia pushed to her feet. "You're insufferable, and Eleanor is right. You have a giant stick up your ass, and until you pull it out, don't talk to me about being your perfect mate. In fact, don't ever talk to me again." She marched into the bedroom and slammed the door behind her.

Marcel pushed to his feet.

Her tantrum didn't affect him. He retreated into his shell, which was crafted of logic and impervious to emotions.

But the fact remained that Sofia hadn't mentioned Valstar's position in Igor's organization, and it couldn't have been an oversight. She'd done it on purpose.

Then again, could he blame her?

Would he have done things differently in her position?

It all depended on how being related to Igor's second-in-command affected her standing in the compound.

The easiest way to get the answers he needed was to ask Eleanor to compel them out of Sofia.

The problem was that she might never forgive him for doubting her again.

68

SOFIA

Sofia threw herself on the bed but refused to cry.

Marcel had once again turned against her, but this time it hurt even more because it had come right on the heels of him declaring her his "perfect mate."

What a joke.

Couldn't he understand why she hadn't mentioned her grandfather's position before?

It was because she'd known that was how he would react despite what she told him about her relationships with her mother and her grandfather.

She was nothing to them.

She was a nobody in the compound, and her relationship to Valstar only provided her with the slightest advantage, maybe not even that. Perhaps her don't-mess-with-me attitude had been effective enough to keep unwanted advances at bay.

The Kra-ell were not rapists per se. Other than Igor, who must have a personality disorder, she hadn't noticed any obvious mental issues among the Kra-ell males. Like any normal men, they still wanted the females they invited to their beds to desire and want them.

It was true that many of the human females did that to remain in good standing and avoid courting undesirable consequences, of which there could be many, but she hadn't heard anyone complaining about being physically forced.

Then again, with all of the purebloods capable of compulsion to a lesser or greater degree, it was possible that the women just couldn't talk about it. Sofia hoped that wasn't the case, but she no longer knew who to believe.

Marcel still treated her like she was the enemy despite all of the information she'd voluntarily given him and his people—immortals who were much more dangerous than she could've ever suspected.

They weren't a community of paranormally talented humans. They had military capabilities, and they could enlist the help of their so-called enemies to destroy Igor and everyone else in the compound. Once again she'd been a pawn, but this time, of her own volition and to the detriment of her own loved ones.

How could Marcel have the audacity to accuse her of withholding information?

The nerve of the guy.

He'd gotten her to reveal the entrances to the tunnels, to admit that there were surveillance cameras along the dirt road leading to it, and to draw him a damn layout of the entire compound to scale.

It was true that Eleanor, or Emmett, or Tom could have gotten the information out of her with compulsion, but then she would at least not have felt like an idiot for volunteering it.

Seething with anger, Sofia grabbed the romance novel off the nightstand and chucked it at the wall, but it did little to channel the negative energy bubbling inside of her. The lamp looked like a much bigger projectile, but as she jumped to her feet and lifted it, intending to send it flying, logic managed to seep in and she put it back.

She would just have to clean up the broken glass, and she would have one less comfort item in her prison cell.