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Raven looked at me—and all she gave was a nod.
Why wasn’t she talking to me?
Magnus had his arm around her waist, wearing a tuxedo like his brother. “I’m going to put the girls in the parlor so we can speak in private—”
“No.” Fender squeezed my waist to secure my position against him, like leaving him was not an option, not in any scenario. His resistance probably came from his hatred for my sister, but it was deeper than that, from a fear that would fill his heart always.
I leaned into him. “Mon amour, please…” My face came close to his, so I could share a whisper no one else could hear. “I’ll just be in the other room.”
Fender took a drink to cover his fuming anger. “You’re lucky I permit her in our home at all.”
Something had happened at the camp to make him hate her even more. He never told me about it, so he either forgot in light of Gilbert, or he just didn’t want to spend his time discussing her. Either one was possible. “For me…” He loved me more than life itself, and he would give me anything I asked for—in time.
He looked at me head on, his look icy cold. But he gave a nod in agreement.
Because he was weak for only one person—me.
I kissed him on the cheek before I whispered to him, “Thank you, mon amour.”
Magnus guided us across the foyer and into the parlor, a room neither Fender nor I ever used. His palace was big and luxurious, but most of it was vacant. There were never visitors, so the rooms were filled with the same energy you would find in a museum after hours.
Raven and I moved to a couch, and Magnus stayed near the door.
I couldn’t believe she was here, next to me, looking like an old-fashioned movie star. Every moment I had with her was a gift, a gift so pure it usually brought me to tears. The connection between us, even at our worst, was unbreakable.
She gave a slight smile before she opened her arms and pulled me in.
I held her and squeezed her tight, my face in her shoulder, holding on to this feeling as long as I possibly could, soaking up every single moment. The hug lasted a long time because it was the only way to truly share the way we felt about each other. Words were insufficient.
When we pulled apart, she looked at me. “You look so gorgeous, Melanie… Wow.”
I shook my head. “That dress was made for you. Magnus can’t stop looking at you—along with everyone else.”
She gave a slight smile. “I guess black is my color.”
A long stare ensued, full of questions neither one of us wanted to ask.
I went first. “How are you?”
She didn’t answer the question directly. “I like being in Paris with Magnus.” She told me she was allowed to go shopping and get coffee on her own, that the two of them had a relationship built on a bedrock of trust. She wouldn’t run and put him in jeopardy—and he knew that. “What about you?”
I wanted to tell my sister the truth because I told her everything, but the shame was too big to conquer. If I told her the way I really felt about Fender, her reaction would be explosive. She would probably hate me the way she hated him. “No complaints.” I took the path of a coward and shared very few details of my life, of the deep and profound connection I had to the man who slept beside me every single night. We were unmarried, but he felt like my husband, a husband I’d had for years. He was everything I could want in a man—except one thing. How could I possibly justify that when my sister was his prisoner? It made me feel like shit just thinking about it. “He’ll let you go. It’s taking me some time, but he will.”
She released a sarcastic laugh. “Yeah, that will never happen.”
“It will.” Confidence burned in my voice, because I knew him better than she did. I knew his heart—because he’d given it to me.
A long silence passed before she gave me that look—a look that said she had an idea. “You know…if you were to kill him…it might fix all our problems.”
Shock hit me like an electrode was attached to my finger. My back straightened with the jolt, and my eyes widened at the suggestion because it was so innately repulsive.
“In his sleep or something.”
An image flashed across my mind, a faceless man putting a gun to his wife’s head and pulling the trigger, wiping out an entire family—except two survivors. The thought nearly brought me to tears. “I…I can’t do that.”
“If you do, the camp will belong to Magnus. He’ll let everyone go—”
“I said I can’t.” Ashamed, I dropped my gaze to my lap. My loyalty was divided between the two people I loved most. It shouldn’t be divided at all—but it was.
