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The knock comesthe following evening shortly after I climb out of the shower and pull on a pair of Adrienne’s sweats. My muscles go frigid at the small tug in my core, the first thing I’ve felt from the bond since I left the tarmac. Slowly, I hang the towel I’d been using to dry my hair on the hook as I hear Adrienne swing the front door open.
“You have a lot of nerve.”
Reid sighs, and a shock runs down the length of my spine at the sound. “Can I come in?”
“No, you definitely can the fuck not.”
“Adrienne—”
“Don’tAdrienneme!”
My reflection stares back at me, wide-eyed, as I lean my ear toward the door. I don’t think I’ve ever heard that kind of power in Adrienne’s voice before.
“I don’t know what you’ve heard—”
“Everything. I’ve heard everything! That’s my sister.My sister, you asshole.” There’s a thump, another, and then a dozen more in rapid succession, and it takes me a moment to realize she’s hitting him.
“Valerie,” he says, his voice low, and it’s like he’s standing right beside me. “I know you’re in there, and I know you can hear me. Please.”
“Haven’t you done enough?” demands Adrienne. “You worthless, spineless, lying piece of—”
Her words cut off as I crack the door open. I give her a small nod, and she whips toward Reid, a single finger pointing at his face like a weapon. “I’ll be just down the hall,” she warns, then slips past him.
I stare at the place she’d been longer than necessary, bracing myself to look at him. To see his face, his eyes. He takes a step into the room, letting the door close behind him.
He didn’t sleep at all, if the bags under his eyes are any indication. He’s in the same clothes he was wearing on the tarmac, now torn and stained with blood and dirt, though if he sustained any injuries during the fight, it looks like they’ve healed by now. His eyes scan me from head to toe as if searching for damage before finally finding my face.
He lifts the blood bag in his hand an inch. “I thought you might be hungry. I’m sorry I couldn’t get here sooner. How are you?”
I stare at him, unable to respond. Such a simple question. But it feels like it’s from a different life, and there’s nothing easy about the answer now.
“They’re all dead,” he adds. “Mikhail, Viktor, and the others they hired. Auclair has assured me he’s looking into it to see if anyone else was working with them. But apparently they weren’t expected in the region at all, so it looks like they were working alone.”
“Is it true?”
His mouth freezes around whatever he was going to say next. Judging by the light dimming in his eyes, I don’t need to elaborate. His jaw works as he sets the blood on the bed. “Yes.”
It was different hearing it from some woman I’d never seen before, even from the queen, but from him? To have him look me in the eyes and confirm it?
“How could you do that?” I ask, my voice lethally quiet. “All those things you said to me—how could you—”
“Valerie.” He takes another step forward, reaching for me, and I jerk back.
“Don’t you dare touch me.”
He takes my face between his hands anyway, and I try to yank away, but he holds firm.
“Don’t touch me!”
“Listen to me.” He leans his face close, forcing me to meet his eyes. “I need you to let me explain. Five minutes. And if you want me to leave after that, I will. Okay?”
I harden my jaw, the bone threatening to tear through skin, but I give a stiff nod.
When it’s clear I’m not going to make a break for it, he releases my face and takes a step back. “It’s true. Anya and I are betrothed, but I swear I’ve never lied to you. And I swear I’ve meant every word I’ve said.
“Betrothals with the royals are common, especially for political alliances. And they don’t have the same expectations human engagements have. I’ve had other relationships in my life, as I’m sure she has. But it’s never been much of a concern to me, because until you, I’ve never had someone that I…I’ve never…” He swallows hard like he’s fighting to find the right words.
“My mother and King Vasiliev made the agreement when Anya was born. I was seven years old. I’ve met her twice. Once after her birth, and once when she was three and I was ten. I have never intended on going through with it. Half of my siblings have had similar betrothals that never turned into marriages because the political landscape changed by then or they negotiated something different with the other estate. And as ridiculous as it seems, it’s not something I’ve given much thought to over the years aside from paying extra attention to maintaining a decent relationship with Vasiliev. It’s just something that’s always been there, like some third cousin you’ve never met before.”
