He’s always protected me, even when I didn’t want him to.
“Liam...” As tears burn my eyes, I stare down at my hands. “I love—” My voice cracks, saving me from making a hopeless declaration. Because I do love them both, but in very different ways. Liam is the concrete foundation keeping me on my feet, and Sebastian is the wild vines growing through the cracks, endangering my foothold.
As if he senses my quiet turmoil, Liam crouches in front of me, cradling my face with one hand. “Don’t cry. God, I can’t help myself when you cry.”
“I want to go back.” My tears fall with a bitter plea, those salty drops torturing his wounds. “I know hearing this hurts you—”
“Then don’t say it.” He tangles his fingers in my hair. “I know how you feel about him, but I think you love me too. I want a fair chance…just try, my sweet girl.”
“Try?”
“Try to think of us anywhere in the world, laughing and loving and free.” Closing his eyes, he rests his forehead against mine. “I can be what you need.”
“I know you can.”
“Then let me.”
“Too much has happened…too much has changed.” I’ve changed, the fabric of my soul weaving a new existence. How can anyone come back from the things I’ve experienced? It’s not something I can erase by running away, no matter how much the weaker part of me wants to forget and find freedom.
But gaining freedom means letting go of Sebastian, and the thought of never seeing him again terrifies me more than facing a month under the rule of Pax.
“It’s not that simple.” I shake my head. “I can’t turn off the way I feel.”
Liam stands, his disappointment palpable. “We’ve both changed, but the connection between us hasn’t. I’m selfish enough to fight for you.”
He shoves his hands in his pockets, and for the first time, I realize he’s wearing jeans. It’s such a foreign look on him—a cunning style used to trick the world into believing he’s harmless when, in fact, he’s declared war on my heart.
“Why did you vote to keep him in the auction?” I stare at his towering form through my tears. “You gave me hope—” My voice breaks again, and I clear my throat. “You’re not taking me back, are you?”
“After the month of Libra is over,” he says, pausing with an air of reluctance, “if you still want to go back to the tower…to him…then I’ll accept it.”
“What?” My lashes flutter as I process an answer I couldn’t have foreseen. “You’ll take me back?”
“Under one condition.” Looking down at me, he clasps his hands behind his back. Despite the denim encasing his legs, he’s no less commanding than when he wears a tailored suit.
“What’s your condition?”
“Between now and then, I want you to give yourself to me. Every piece of you, Novalee.”
A confusing tingle flares between my legs. “You want my virginity?”
He all but grinds his teeth. “Not until you’ve made your choice. If you choose me, we’ll marry, and then I’ll have you in my bed the way you deserve.” His eyes dim to burnt umber. “Not on an elevator floor, ass-fucking in the traffic of people’s filth.”
My mouth slackens. “How did you know about that?”
“I’m aware of many things.” He drags a hand down his face. “The security team saw the two of you on surveillance footage.”
I swallow hard, wondering what else he’s seen, heard, or discovered. “So you’ll let me go back?” A dubious note enters my tone. Why would he risk everything just to return to the tower with me?
“As long as you give me what I want.”
“If not my virginity, then what?”
“I want what you gave Sebastian. Your body, your heart…a willingness to try.” His gaze is as unwavering as the ultimatum settling between us, those prying eyes spreading heat across my cheeks. I almost look away—almost lose the courage to stand my ground in the power of his stare. Giving in to his demands would be as easy as breathing. The chemistry has always been there. The connection and need.
The want.
But deep down, I know the guilt will eat me raw. The heart wasn’t designed to love two men in equal measures. Despite its two halves, the heart was meant to love as a whole.
“Do I have another option?”
“None that you’ll like.”
Clarification isn’t necessary. His intentions shape the dominance of his mouth, enforce his confident stature, solidify his rigid jawline. When Liam decides something, he’s not easily swayed. Not long ago, he was willing to let me go if it meant ensuring my happiness, but the man standing before me now is a pillar of possessive power. A man whose self-sacrificing nature is nowhere in sight.
He’s left me no choice. Short of escaping Liam, the only way back to Sebastian is to give the chancellor what he wants.
2
As the ship journeys across the Atlantic, I recover from my final days in the House of Virgo. Someone comes to the door of our room three times a day like clockwork to bring us food. Liam keeps me out of sight like the stowaway I am, though neither of us leave the room while we’re at sea.
It’s imperative we lie low, Liam insists.
So with the constant thrum of the ventilation system in my ears, combined with the crew’s scampering footsteps on deck, I do my best not to go mad from boredom. Mealtime marks the rhythmic peaks of each day. It also helps me regain my strength and mental fortitude.
But nothing fortifies me against the rage building inside, because knowing I have no choice and accepting it are two different things. My anger infiltrates the space like an odorless gas leak, just a spark away from igniting.
Commanded to stay out of sight once again, I listen as Liam greets our mysterious ally while the smuggled food exchanges hands. The guy sounds older, his indecipherable words reaching my ears with a raspiness that makes me think he indulges in nicotine.
This unseen messenger is our only contact on the ship, and I consider calling out for help. But deep down, I know I won’t make a sound—not when leaving Liam means returning to Zodiac Island. In my heart, I know the chancellor is a man of his word. He’ll take me back to the tower at the end of Pax’s month.
But only if I give him what he wants first.
As he sits across from me at our tiny table for two, finishing off his bowl of bland vegetable soup, my reluctance to give in weighs heavily between us. In spite of his stated intentions, Liam has barely touched me. We’ve spent the previous three nights in separate beds, and the days are filled with games of chess and silence.
Uncomfortable silence that seems louder than the constant hum of the ship. Our tense coexistence comes to a head after dinner as we battle each other on the chess board, the pieces scattered in a haphazard mess.
Kind of like this situation.
“How long are you planning to give me the silent treatment?” he asks, moving his bishop. When he meets my gaze, there’s a challenge in his soft umber eyes, though that calculating stare has nothing to do with the game before us.
Licking my lips, I push my queen two spaces to the left. “I never said I was giving you the silent treatment.”