And it seemed Keys had piqued Cam’s interest enough for him to preserve his life.
I shook my head. This juxtaposition between old Cam and new Cam was making my head spin.
Focus, Izzy,I told myself.You can navigate this. Just take it one step at a time.
Damien and Ryder would be at the meeting. Jace and Darius, too. I’d relayed all that information to Cam already, primarily through my mind. He hadn’t reacted one way or another. No excitement. No fear, either. Only calm acceptance.
I wished I could be that calm.
Damien’s concern had been palpable over the phone. He’d known something was wrong even though I’d kept saying otherwise. This wasn’t his business. He didn’t need to know my struggles with Cam or what exactly had happened under the Vatican.
Cam’s permanent memory loss was the only aspect of our situation that I intended to share with Damien and the others.And only because that particular point impacted everyone, not just me.
However, all the other details were between me and Cam. No one else.
Including the almost-raped-to-death event.
And everything Cam had done to me before that, too. Like fucking me while I slept. Using me for his pleasure while forcing orgasms out of me via his bite.
I shivered, my eyes still closed as a jolt skittered up my spine.
My body seemed to be recalling those moments favorably.
My heart, however, released a pang I felt in my very soul.
It left me conflicted. Exhausted.Overwhelmed.
I stole another deep breath, my nails digging into my palms.
Cam could hear every single one of my thoughts, yet his mind remained carefully blank. He appeared to be accepting my pain, and responding to it with another wave of patience.
Move, Izzy,I told myself.Standing here accomplishes nothing.
Besides, a meeting might just be the distraction I needed right now.
Assuming Damien and Ryder didn’t drown me beneath their brotherly protection.
Gritting my teeth, I forced my eyes open and left the room.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE
IZZY
Keys and Camboth stood in the foyer off of the living area, the two of them dressed in matching suits.
You made him your twin, I see,I thought at Cam.
I dressed him as an equal so the others won’t treat him as a servant.His eyes ran over me with interest.And I dressed you as my queen.
“I’m wearing jeans and a sweater,” I replied out loud. “That’s not very queenly.”
“Queens don’t need dresses or formalwear to reign,” he returned. “They simply rule by existing.”
“And kings?” I asked, deciding to engage in this distraction from my thoughts.
His lips curled, his irises glittering like a moon hovering over a midnight ocean. “Kings dress to impress their queens.”
My cheeks warmed at the obvious insinuation in his tone. He knew I liked how he looked in his fitted suit. And he was suggesting he’d worn it for me, no one else.
