Page 53 of Promoted To His Princess

‘I asked her whether she wanted to marry you,’ Adonis said after a moment. ‘And she said she didn’t. But that she didn’t have a choice. So I gave her one.’

Fury vibrated through every cell of Xerxes’ being. ‘What do you mean, you gave her one?’ he ground out.

‘I told her she could come to me after the party and I’d provide her with an escape, if that was what she wanted. And she did. And I provided her with one.’

Xerxes felt as if someone had punched him hard in the gut, winding him.

She’d walked out. She’d walked away. Without a single word.

Not without a word.

Ah, yes, out there on the terrace, that strange note in her voice as she’d told him not to care. The sweetness in her kiss. That had been a goodbye, hadn’t it?

Something opened up inside him, a deep, abiding pain. It felt worse than anything his father had ever done.

‘And my child?’ he demanded hoarsely. ‘What will happen to the baby?’

‘She said that if you wanted the baby with you, she would allow it. She was very concerned that the safety of the child was paramount, regardless of whatever...issues the pair of you might have.’

‘Issues?’ Xerxes said in disbelief.‘Issues?’

‘Well?’ Adonis lifted an eyebrow. ‘Aren’t they issues?’

‘No.’ He leaned over Adonis’ desk, pinning his brother in place with a furious stare. ‘I care about her, you absolute fool!’

Finally, anger sparked in Adonis’ electric-blue gaze. ‘But she doesn’t love you,’ he snapped, pushing himself suddenly to his feet. ‘And so I was trying to protect you. You deserve better than that, Xerxes. You always have.’

Xerxes shoved himself away from his brother’s desk. ‘I don’t need your protection,’ he spat. ‘Or your opinion on what I do or don’t deserve. Tell me where she is.’

‘She told me so herself,’ Adonis went on implacably. ‘I asked her whether she loved you and she told me she didn’t.’

No, that was a lie. She felt something for him, he knew she did. It was in the way she’d touched the scar on his stomach, the way she’d told him that he was a hero, even when he didn’t feel it himself. The way she’d kissed him goodbye out there on the terrace. In the distress he’d seen in her eyes.

Why had she lied?

Why does that matter?

The thought sliced through him, sharp and deadly as a blade, pinning him to the spot.

Because it mattered. It mattered to him.

He hadn’t thought about love. He hadn’t thought about anything beyond fate and destiny and purpose. He hadn’t thought about anything beyond duty.

He hadn’t thought about what he wanted for himself except passion.

She was his goddess to worship, but worship was only one-way. A priest didn’t expect his god or goddess to answer. A priest didn’t require to be worshipped in return.

But you do.

Something burned in his heart, something he’d always hoped for but had never asked for. Something that, deep down, he’d never thought he was worthy of.

He wanted to be worshipped. He wanted to be loved.

By her.

Because he loved her.

Love for him had always been pain. Always been failure. But this didn’t feel like either of those things. It felt like power. It felt like strength. It felt like glory.

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