I knew he didn’t have plans. I heard her tell him no.
“I don’t drink,” Keaton replied.
“Of course you don’t.”
He bowed his head one last time. “Goodnight, sir.”
Then he turned away from the gala, away from me, away from the reality that a war had just been waged, and he had no hope of winning. He walked right back toward the library. Right back to her.
Four
Somewhere in the world, there was a comfy yellow sofa—the color of fresh lemons or sunshine. The color of happy—on the back wall of a therapist’s office with my name written all over it. The girl who hides from feelings in order to protect her own. I never thought about the possibility of hurting someone else’s in the process. It’s why I chose Keaton. He was a guard. They didn’t have serious relationships. They didn’t get married. The guard was married to the guard. He knew I never planned on staying in Torryn. In six months, I’d have my inheritance and be gone the very next day. We had an understanding. On paper, we were the perfect fit. What we did just worked. Why was he going off script now?
The dark room brightened when I clicked on a second lamp, then a third because the darkness started to play with my mind. I liked simple things, easy things. I didn’t do complicated, and Sutton Thorne was becoming a serious complication.
My fingers trailed the banister of the grand spiral staircase as I walked past it to find my book. Roses and vines and leaves were all molded into wrought iron with polished wood rails. I outlined one of the thorns and wondered about the artist who crafted it, if they knew that one day those thorns would have their own crown.
As soon as I plucked my book from its shelf, I heard the library door open followed by heavy footsteps on the marble floor.
“He wants to fuck you,” Keaton growled.
I spun around and the book fell from my hands, hitting the floor with a loud thud. I bent to pick it up, holding it against my chest like a shield as I turned to face him. “What? Who? What are you talking about?” My words stammered even though my thoughts didn’t. I knew exactly what he was talking about.
Keaton closed the distance between us within seconds. “I’m talking about His Royal Highness, Sutton fucking Thorne. He could have anyone he wanted. Anyone. And yet, the future king of Torryn wants to stick his dick in the woman I—” He cut himself off, clenching his jaw.
Please don’t say it. Please don’t say it. Do not say the “L” word.
“Keaton…” I said before he had a chance to finish his thought and shatter all hope of us moving past this. My fear of loss was still too raw, too real. The last thing I wanted in my life right now was love. I reached for his hand, but he pulled it away. I took a step forward. “You don’t know that.”
“Oh, but I do. He stopped me on my way to the barracks and all but said the word.”
I didn’t want to believe Sutton was capable of something so cruel.
Of course he was.
Keaton’s eyes grew dark. The muscle in his jaw tightened and flexed. His hands fisted at his side then relaxed as he let out a deep breath. “I have no idea what happened in the kitchen today. I know you said it didn’t matter… and maybe to you, it didn’t. But it sure as fuck wasn’t nothing. So now I’m caught somewhere between doing my job and beating the shit out of the prince, and you won’t even let me spend the night.”
He stormed out of the room before I could respond.
I didn’t want to fight with him over this… over Sutton… over nothing. He may have been bigger than me and stronger than me, but this wasn’t over, even if I had to drag him back myself.
I followed him out and was quickly greeted by the sound of laughter echoing in the hall. Sutton and a tiny brunette were walking this way. Her head rested against his arm as they held hands and walked the path toward me. As soon as I met his eyes, his mouth twitched as though he fought back a smile. He did this. I didn’t know what he’d said to Keaton—probably something about everything belonging to him—but I wanted to plant my foot on his balls because of it. I didn’t belong to anyone, especially not him.
I yelled down the hallway, not caring who heard. “Keaton, stop!” Please.
He stopped walking and turned to face me. Sutton and his plaything stopped too. All eyes were on me in this moment, and I knew whatever came next needed to be important. It needed to make a statement to both of them.
I made a point of looking past the prince, directing my words at the only one of them who mattered right now. “Stay with me,” I said, not caring or realizing what the outcome might be.
“What?” he asked, his expression as confused as my feelings.
“Go get your things. I want you to stay with me tonight.”
My eyes followed Keaton’s as he glanced at Sutton. We both watched Sutton’s jaw clench, waiting for some arrogant proclamation that never came.
A wide grin brightened Keaton’s face. “Yeah. Let me just grab some clothes… Even though we both know I won’t be needing them,” Keaton said. Then he winked and walked back toward the end of the hall.
Oh, for crying out loud. He might as well have just whipped out his penis and a ruler.
The pretty brunette leaned up, whispering something in Sutton’s ear. He huffed a laugh then continued walking my way. They breezed past me as Sutton guided her to the library. His shoulder brushed mine, not by accident I was sure, leaving my skin heated at the contact. Stupid hormones. The brunette went inside and strolled lazily across the room, letting her fingertip drag along the edge of a leather chair while Sutton stopped in the doorway. My chest swelled with an overprotective need to make them leave. Why were they in my library anyway?
Okay, technically it didn’t belong to me, but for the past four months it felt like it did. The cold truth was that as long as I was here, nothing would ever be truly mine.
He pressed one shoulder against the wooden frame. “Are you finished in here for the evening?”
I swallowed and answered with a slight curtsy. “It’s all yours, Your Highness.” Even in my sarcasm, I still remembered my manners. Mama would be proud. Sutton grinned and my stomach flipped. I made a point of studying my bright pink fingernails and appearing unaffected.
He leaned forward, tucking a lock of hair behind my ear then resting his cheek against mine as he whispered. “Good. I hear it’s a great place for blow jobs.”
The message was clear. The open door… It was him. He saw everything, and he was taunting me.
His fingers moved to skim my collarbone, toying with my silver cross necklace—the last gift my dad ever gave me.
I swallowed the rapidly building urge to throw up. “You were right. Earlier… in the kitchen.” My chest heaved with every breath. “I don’t like you at all.”
I hate you.
She called after Keaton, practically begging him to stay, like she could outsmart me with some fucked up mind game.
She wanted inside my head? Well, then I prayed for her soul because even I didn’t understand half the dark shit going on in there.
I let her go. I gave her one last night with him because I was a Thorne. We didn’t beg. We didn’t barter. We ruled. By this time tomorrow, she would belong to me, and everyone would know it. And that bullshit about not liking me? I saw straight through that lie.