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I’d asked for this conversation, but now I didn’t know what to say. “I’m Ivory… Nice to meet you.”
“Elora.”
“I know this is…awkward…and I appreciate your coming here today.”
“It seemed important to Huntley, so…”
Because it was important to me.
“I never really believed Huntley’s accusation until I met you. Now that I have…the sky has crashed on my shoulders. My whole world is…different. I can’t imagine how it must feel for you.”
With her legs crossed and her hands in her lap, she was quiet, taking and not giving. “My entire life, I assumed my mother hated me because I was a girl instead of a boy. But now I know the truth, and I don’t blame her for her hatred. I would hate me too.”
“I can’t even imagine how difficult it was for her, but you’re still her daughter, and I don’t think hatred is the right response to the situation. Huntley doesn’t hate you. I’ve seen the way he looks at you. Honestly, I thought you were his wife or something…”
She released a laugh, a big, booming one. “Now that’s funny.”
“He speaks highly of you, too.”
“He does not,” she said with another laugh. “Tells me I’m a pain in the ass every day.”
“Well, he’s lying. Says I’m a pain in the ass too, but I know it’s bullshit.”
Her smile faded, and her eyes turned serious once again.
“I know this doesn’t mean much…but I’m really sorry about what happened. I know it’s not my fault, but I feel so terrible, like I’m responsible for my father’s behavior. I thought I knew him, and then I find this out, and I’m just…not sure of anything anymore.”
“Your father is a piece of shit. Plain and simple, sweetheart.”
I sucked in a breath between my closed teeth, the action involuntary.
“He’s not sorry about what he did, and he would do it again in a heartbeat.”
It was another punch to the stomach.
“You can give your pity and your apologies, but at the end of the day, it doesn’t matter. He’s your father. You would choose him over us in a heartbeat. It doesn’t matter how barbaric he is—family is everything, and I’ll never trust you. Huntley may be fucking you, but he doesn’t trust you either.”
She sure knew how to lay it on thick. “It doesn’t matter if he’s my father, I’ll never condone what he did to your mother. It’s disgusting…and it breaks my heart.”
She gave a shrug. “We’re still enemies as far as I’m concerned.”
“But we aren’t. I don’t think what he did is right—”
“But if he hadn’t taken Delacroix and the Kingdoms, you would be the one down here, forsaken just like us. Always at war. Always vulnerable. And always fucking cold. In this world, there is no morality. There is only survival. You may not believe that right now, but you will once my family takes back what’s ours.”
I felt like I’d been slapped in the face.
She got to her feet. “One more thing. You stab my brother in the back, I’ll stab you in your goddamn face.”
“I warned you.” Huntley was shirtless at his desk, his muscular back covered in scars from the wars he had fought. The mosaic of trials and injury was a testament to his bravery, and while the scars made me sad, they also turned me on a bit.
“I still have no regrets.”
“Then you got a mild version of her.”
I sat on the edge of the bed and removed my shoes. “She reminds me of your mother.”
“Me too.” He pivoted in the chair so he could look at me, his jaw cleanly shaved, his hair a little damp from the bath he’d taken recently. His blue eyes locked on me, reminding me of a blue sky I hadn’t seen in a long time.
“Well…thank you anyway.”
He left his desk and approached me, his breeches low on his hips, the drawstring untied. “We’re leaving tomorrow.”
“We are?” My head tilted back to look at him because he towered over me as I sat on the bed.
“First thing in the morning.”
“Is it just the two of us?”
“Yes.”
“And where are we going?”
“West.”
“Still won’t tell me where we’re going or what we’re doing?”
He tucked his thumb into his breeches and pulled them down, letting his hard dick emerge. My question was clearly the last thing on his mind. Without his bottoms to support his shaft, his dick plopped down right on my face, his tip resting against my lips.
His thumb grabbed my chin, and he traced my bottom lip with his finger, enticing my lips to open.
“We’re in the middle of a conversation—”
He guided his length inside me, pushing inside my mouth until I nearly choked.
He thrust inside me as he supported the back of my head, his dick hitting my throat deep and hard. “And I’m changing the subject.”
I woke up that morning to kisses on my collarbone and a hand between my legs.
