“That wasn’t us,” Tristian says, hand pushing through his hair. “But it was orchestrated. By Story.” I frown. “Why?” Mercer snorts. “You haven’t noticed how close those girls are?” Every guy in the room stares blankly, confirming that none of us had noticed, and I think about how I had to push her out the door to go to the shower today. “None of you have sisters,” Mercer continues, “but I do. There’s a vibe. Our women have a connection.” Wick nods, face pensive. “I can see it. You know how women like to travel in packs. Ours don’t have that option. Not even with their court or,” he waves his
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