I shoved him off.
His shoulders heaved with the effort of breathing, jaw sharper with his clench.
Restrained—barely.
I rubbed my forehead, hot. “W-what do you mean I’m not going back?”
He worked his jaw. “We’re done. You’re not going back to him. We’re doing this my way.”
I opened and closed my mouth, no words coming out.
After a moment, I finally managed, “What happened? What changed?”
“I told you I wouldn’t put my faith in fairy tales.”
“Your child,” I attempted. “Your family. You’re not thinking clearly.”
He slammed his hands on either side of me. “Of course I’m not thinking clearly; you’re surrounded by monsters!”
I could feel the wrinkle in my brow deepen. “Nothing has changed. You’d still be leaving your child. Your family—”
“Everything has changed!” He yelled so loud it seemed to silence the very waves.
There it was again…the darkness.
The shadow clinging to his soul.
“What aren’t you telling me?” I whispered.
He looked away, and when he looked back, his eyes were stone. “They aren’t worth it. They never were.”
He was lying.
Why was he lying?
“You said you would wait for me, were you lying?”
He gripped my cheeks, thumbs bruising. “I will wait decades.”
“Then let me be Atlas for a while and let him think I’m his mistress.”
His eyes darkened to black. “No. I’ll kill him before I let you sleep in his bed again.”
What?
With his hands still on either side of me, I threaded mine through his silky rose gold locks, pushing it up over his head so I could see his eyes.
The deep ache.
The burning secrets.
“Why do you look like you have a secret—”
“Oh, doesn’t this look fun.”
We jerked our heads to the side.
West.
Grayson thrust me behind his body, shielding me, one arm holding me protectively against his back. I did the best I could to pull my torn dress together.
“You really have a fucking death wish, don’t you?”
West laughed. “I was about to ask you the same thing.”
Two burly men in black suits came into the room and I felt a flicker of hope. Grayson’s guards were here. They wouldn’t let anything happen to him.
Grayson turned to me. “Everything will be all right.” My heart flew out of my throat at his calm, soothing tone and the stone in his eyes.
It happened in slow motion, like I was slipping under water, watching the clouds move above me. The first guard wrapped his meaty hand around Grayson and then the second did the same. Grayson fought their hold a little, not trying to get away, but just so he could turn and look back at me.
And then Grayson was ripped away—no, dragged away. I blinked, coming out from the ocean, and it stung like the salty water too.
Time was torn from us again and I realized how foolish we’d been with it. I hadn’t told Grayson anything.
West knows. West knows about the coin. He knows so much more than we do.
“Grayson, West—” No sooner had I started than West yanked me back with such force it stole my breath.
“Stay quiet, Angel.” West gritted through closed teeth. He fisted the fabric of my dress closed, until it was so tight on my body, I couldn’t breathe.
Grayson was dragged farther from me, but if he was afraid, he didn’t show it. He looked bothered.
Annoyed.
“So this is where you disappeared to.”
Tansy Crowne came into the room, at her back, Arthur du Lac. I never thought I’d feel a flicker of hope at Tansy Crowne’s voice, but I knew above anything else she would not stand for this. Then, the unthinkable happened.
Grayson’s guards thrust him to his knees.
I forgot to breathe.
You don’t assault a Crowne, you don’t hold a Crowne to his knees, and you especially don’t do this inside of Crowne Hall.
Yet everyone just watched…and Grayson, he didn’t seem surprised at all.
Prisoner.
My eyes darted from one person to the next.
“Did you see what they were up to?” Arthur asked, eagerness positively dripping from his tongue.
West stared at us. “They were just talking.”
“Talking,” Arthur repeated, beady eyes narrowing on my torn dress, on my neck. I felt the bite mark Grayson left burn hot.
I stared at Tansy, waiting for her to say something—do something. Her favorite son, the heir to the Crowne empire, was on his fucking knees in her own house, and she wasn’t going to do anything?
What rabbit hole had I fallen down? What Twilight Zone episode was I in?
West gripped my bottom lip, dragging my attention to his.
“That kiss looked pretty fucking passionate,” he spoke low enough, only I heard. “Did I miss any others?”
I tried to move but he tightened his grip, and I knew if I moved it would tear the skin bloody. I slightly shook my head.
“I told you I didn’t share, Angel.” Using my lip, he jerked my head to the side, and bit my neck.
In front of everyone.
I cried out, my eyes slanting to the side, finding Grayson’s, as West sunk his teeth into my neck. The look in his eyes would haunt me, almost as much as what followed next.
The change.
He went from calm to animalistic in the blink of an eye. Grayson lunged for me, but a guard wrapped his arm around his neck, pulling him back to the floor.
West released my neck, and said low enough only I could hear. “Remember this moment the next time you think to find Grayson, Angel.” Then he stood up, addressing the room. “One to match the other I gave earlier. I think we’re all tired. We’ll see you tomorrow.”
“See you tomorrow,” Arthur said, eyes still narrowed.
“Merry Christmas Eve,” Tansy said.
My jaw hit the ground. I always knew Tansy was horrible to servants, but I thought she had a small space in her wretched, rotten heart left for her children.
I couldn’t stay quiet. I knew the consequences if I spoke, but—
“You—” West slapped his hand over my mouth, muffling the word bitch.
Then West dragged me out of the room.
I struggled.
Grayson urged me with his eyes to stop fighting, but I couldn’t leave him—not like this.
I didn’t care about consequences, punishments, whatever the hell was going to happen to me.
So West wrapped his arms around my ribcage and lifted me off the floor, dragging me out of the room. My arms held uselessly and hopelessly out to Grayson.
Grayson’s eyes followed me as I left the room.
Strung between two guards, his arms pulled to their length, muscles, veins, viscera in stark relief. He looked like a king.
A fallen one.
And that’s the last I saw of him before I was dragged around the corner.
Fifteen
GRAY
I’m keeping a secret from my little wife.
What happened? What changed?
Questions burned in Story’s eyes, questions I wanted to answer. I didn’t know where to begin. The guards let me go with a shove, and my mother came to me, a tight smile on her face.