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Are you alright? I move close enough for her to see it as I hold it near her elbow.
She scoffs after a beat. “You care?”
When she meets my gaze, I shrug. Yes and no. I don’t care the way people expect me to—the way pretty little girls like her want me to. I remember what it was like to feel different, but that was the young boy who died with the single glide of a knife across his throat. I was born from that mess, and there’s no turning back.
She understands that I’m not going to type out some long, soul-bearing answer, so she turns her gaze away again. “Do you know why they took my blood and spit?”
DNA.
She glances down at the phone. “To prove I’m my father’s daughter?” She laughs under her breath, then turns and leans her shoulder against the glass. Her eyes are bright with fire and defiance, and I kind of want to kiss her. She looks the way James did when he first arrived here. Ready to burn the goddamn world down.
Yeah. I want to keep her.
“Trust me, I’d give anything to not be related to that man. And I’m not just saying that to save my ass,” she adds. “He hates me.”
He does. We figured out a couple of things about Alice over the years. One is that her father hates her. And two is that her father is possessive over her future to the point that she’s his one weakness.
Don’t give up hope just yet, princess.
She glances at the screen, then glares up at me. “I’m not a princess, trust me.”
Well, I’m not convinced about that, but maybe she’s just not used to going as dark as I am—as any of us are. Not all princesses are the damsels of fairy stories. I can see this one as Queen of the Underworld, ruling at our sides.
I can see her lifting a knife and watching the life drain out of someone’s eyes.
I can see her standing beside us as we finally make Guido Romano pay.
The thought gets me hard, and I don’t try to hide it as I move closer to her. I’m not in a headspace that’s safe for her, so nothing will happen tonight. At least, nothing I want. But I am ready to stir the pot a little bit.
I lift my hand, watching the contrast of my pale, freckled skin against her tawny brown. Her hair is pitch-black and gorgeous, and I brush a few strands off her shoulder before I grip her chin and turn her to face me.
She licks her lips, and I can see from her eyes she wants this. She wanted this in the tub, before James stepped in.
“Are you going to kiss me?”
I nod, a single jerk of my head, and then I pull her close. I don’t kiss softly—I don’t do anything softly. My teeth dig into her lower lip as my fingers grab her by the hips in a punishing grip. I tug her close to me, rocking my dick against her like a promise of what’s to come.
She gasps, and I swallow the sounds down like they’re my own, tasting her tongue with mine and making her whimper. God, she’s going to be gorgeous when she’s ready to fully give herself over. And I can be patient for that.
I break the kiss with a loud pop, then curl my fingers through hers and step away. She looks a little stunned and a lot wary, and I almost laugh because I know what she’s thinking. She’s heard the stories—she knows what I’m capable of.
And yet, she still follows me when I pull her toward the stairs and up to the landing on the other side of the house. Phoenix is behind one of these doors—likely his office, which is why I stop by his private library instead.
In the dim light of the hall, I release Alice and mouth along with my signs. ‘You like to read?’
“Read?” she asks, repeating the sign.
I smile and nod, and I can see once again she’s a little thrown.
“Yes,” she tells me, almost hesitant.
I’m not sure if she knows how long we’ve been watching her, but if she does, she must know we’ve observed that. All the classics she loves and the sweet romances…and the hidden collection she keeps away from the prying eyes of her cousins and her father’s guards and the few friends she was allowed to have.
My grin widens, and then I turn the handle to Phoenix’s library and wait. When there’s no shout of protest, I push the door further and flick on the light, gesturing for her to go.
“James said not to.”
‘James is an idiot,’ I sign rapidly, not bothering to make sure she understands. I take a breath, then shrug. ‘It’s fine,’ I mouth, and I can see she understands that. ‘Plenty of books.’
