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“Huntley doesn’t have a plan?”
“We’re going to send scouts to the east to see what we discover. Depending on that information, Huntley may give himself up in exchange. There may be no other option. They wouldn’t have taken Harlow unless she would be useful to them, and the only way she’s useful politically is because her father is the King of Kingdoms.”
“This can’t be happening.”
It was the worst nightmare of my life.
“Ivory…”
“She’s a mess.”
“And Huntley…”
“He’s a different kind of mess.”
She rubbed her arms, like a draft had come from nowhere and made her shiver. “I—I can’t believe this has happened.”
“Neither can I.”
“We’ve lived at peace for so long…”
“I know.” The best decades of my life. I’d felt incomplete until I’d met Avice, until we’d had our daughter, until life had started to make sense. My mother preferred Huntley to me, but I knew Avice picked me when she could have had any other man she wanted.
“You—you don’t think it’s Necrosis?”
“They were all slain. The Three Kings were executed.”
She gave a nod, but her eyes didn’t look convinced. “Then who else could their allies be?”
“I don’t know. The world is a vast place, and we really don’t know much about it.” We’d stuck to our continent, which was already enough work to maintain.
“I know Huntley will get her back.” She said it to herself more than anything.
I gave a nod, knowing I’d probably lose my brother in the end, but I wouldn’t talk him out of it. If this were my daughter, I would do exactly the same thing. “Yeah.” Even in sadness, Avice was the most beautiful creature I’d ever seen. My body was a natural furnace, but without her beside me, I felt ice-cold. Every mattress I slept on felt like a pile of rocks when she wasn’t there.
Her eyes met mine, feeling the intensity of my stare.
My mind was in a haze because of all the scotch I’d drunk, but I was fully aware of my actions—of the fact that I wanted to sleep in her bed tonight. It took terror and booze to work up the courage to come here after weeks of not speaking, and now I was there, imagining the desperation written all over my face. “I—I’m broken.” I hadn’t prepared a speech before I arrived, and maybe that was why she listened to me. “My world fell apart when I lost you, but now…it’s even worse. There are no words to comfort my brother, and as much as I love Harlow like my own, a part of me is grateful it’s not Lila…and that makes me feel like the biggest scumbag on the continent.” Tears welled in my eyes that I didn’t feel until they started to fall, hot drops down my cheeks.
Her eyes instantly mirrored mine, wet with a sheen of emotion, bubbling up to the surface immediately. “I feel the same way.” She came closer to me, her palms cupping my cheeks, giving me affection that I craved every day we were apart. Then she rested her forehead against mine.
I closed my eyes as I simmered in the throbbing connection between us, the love that had still survived my treason. She claimed she didn’t want me anymore, but when I showed up on her doorstep, drunk and broken, she took me in with open arms. She cried when I cried. Her heart finally broke free of its prison and formed wings.
We still had a chance.
I knew it was wrong to take advantage of the situation for my own gain, but talking and pleading hadn’t dented the armor around her heart. Tragedy was the only thing strong enough to make it through—so I wielded it like a sledgehammer.
My arm tightened around her waist, and I pulled her body flush against mine as I closed the minimal distance between our mouths and kissed her. It was a gentle landing, just the press of our lips. I tested her reaction, not wanting to advance too hard and lose her in the process.
But she didn’t pull away.
I kissed her again. Felt her upper lip between mine. Kissed her bottom lip.
She still didn’t push me away.
My hand cradled the back of her head, and I deepened the kiss, opening my mouth and feeling hers reciprocate. I turned my head and slipped her my tongue, feeling hers dance with mine. I moaned into her mouth when I knew this was real, that I wasn’t alone in my bedroom with my fingers around my length and my eyes closed. I was kissing my wife—and she was kissing me back.
Her arms slid over my shoulders and around my neck, her fingertips sliding into the back of my hair. She rose on her tiptoes to meet my kiss, and after a few minutes, we became the fire that heated the room.
