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For some reason, that made me feel even worse. The Crown always came first. The kingdom always came first. The responsibilities of running this country would always be above my best interests. It was why King Frederick was willing to sell me to an evil man. Would August use me, too?
I whispered my response. “I wish he’d make an effort with me.”
Atticus seemed conflicted, opening and closing his mouth again and again as he considered his options. I waited patiently as he settled on the mattress, dropping his feet to my bedroom floor and turning his back to me. “He’s trying in his own way, I suppose. It kills me to say it, but he wants to make the kingdom a place you feel safe in.”
My mouth popped open. “What?”
Atticus looked over his shoulder at me. “He feels like stepping into his role is the best way to make sure nothing like that ever happens again. Think about it, Christine. You were in danger—you were harmed on his watch. He’s going to make sure you never have to experience something like that again. And he’s probably terrified he’s going to fuck things up with you, because that’s what he does. He fucks things up. Maybe he’s trying to be a man and create a home for the two of you while giving you space to process.”
I shook my head. “I don’t want space. I want him to tell me that he doesn’t see me as this monster—this murderer.”
He looked at his lap. “What did I tell you? I’m the monster catcher. Besides, monsters can be beautiful, too.”
I leaned forward to rest my head on his shoulder, curving my body around his back like touching him was the only thing that could bring me comfort. “Are they?”
He reached up to stroke my cheek while keeping his eyes trained on his lap. “I’m a monster. I’ve done…terrible things I didn’t think myself capable of.”
I sucked in a breath. “Tell me.”
“Do you know how my family came into power, Christine? Truly? How we gained our fortune?”
“You’ve owned lots of businesses and properties—”
He cut me off. “We’ve controlled lots of businesses. We’ve claimed people and killed enemies. We’ve dedicated our lives to running the criminal underground. My father is a dangerous felon with a fat bank account, good connections, and a deadly inclination to kill anyone in his way. When I turned sixteen, he had me kill his first rat.”
I gasped and wrapped my arms around his chest, linking my fingers together while I rested against his back. I knew his family was involved in dangerous enterprises, but not to this extent.
“If someone tried to claim our turf, I killed them,” he admitted. “If someone challenged us or stole from us, I chopped their bodies up and put them in the Ghanes Lake.”
“Atticus…”
“And I don’t regret a minute of it. Not a single bit. You want to know why?”
I hugged him tighter. “Why?”
“Because power allows me to be closer to you. To protect you. To take care of you. August is king, but I am not afraid to be a monster, Christine. A monster isn’t hesitant to fight or to get their hands bloody. I can accomplish things he wouldn’t get away with. I don’t have a moral compass, which means I don’t give a fuck who I have to hurt to get to you. Monsters aren’t afraid of the dark, baby.”
Tears fell down my cheeks as I held him for a moment. I thought of the man who was willing to do anything for me, and how he’d spent the entirety of our friendship watching me pine after someone else.
“I’m sorry I’m not deserving of such a devoted monster,” I whispered. “I’m sorry you’ve had to watch me love him.”
He chuckled lightly. “But I still get to watch.”
I unlaced my fingers and pulled away. He twisted to look at me as I adjusted the strap of my short, thin nightgown. “You want August to come here?” he asked, his gaze lingering on the way my nipples pebbled.
I shook my head. “Atticus, we don’t have to talk about him.” I didn’t want to hurt my monster any more than I already had.
“You’re hurting, baby,” he whispered. “And I just said I have no moral compass. I might not want to share you, but I do want to see you happy.”
I chewed on my lip as he dug in his pocket. I couldn’t see what he pulled out because I was too focused on the way he leaned closer, closer, closer.
Our noses were a breath apart. He stared at my mouth with a hungry intensity that made my stomach clench. “I’ll get him here. For you. Always and anything for you, baby.”
He leaned in and sucked on my bottom lip, pulling it between his teeth and biting slightly. I gasped as he reached up to tug the strap of my nightgown down, cool air fluttering over my hardened nipple as he did.
A moan rumbled in his chest as he moved to grab my breast, digging his fingers into my plush skin as he lavished my mouth with his tongue. I melted at his touch, heat turning me slick with need.
I clawed at his body, digging my fingers into his back as I arched closer. Kissing Atticus was deliriously perfect; he was dangerous and decadent. He captured my soul as he stroked my tongue.
