Total pages in book: 119
Estimated words: 116396 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 582(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 116396 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 582(@200wpm)___ 466(@250wpm)___ 388(@300wpm)
Days passed, and I didn’t see Huntley.
I spent my time in my room or outside the city with Pyre. We’d sit in the field together, talking about his homeland, Storm, the kingdoms, anything but what Huntley had done to my father.
Huntley and his mother moved forward with their conquest of Delacroix, giving an address in the market square as they pronounced themselves the true rulers of the Kingdom. Perhaps some of the inhabitants remembered them from before and rejoiced at their return. But I bet others saw them as the outsiders.
I knew I’d have to face him eventually because we needed to discuss the next steps. Word would get back to the Capital that two dragons were in Delacroix, if it hadn’t already. The other Kingdoms would know too. We had to make a course of action sooner rather than later before we were the ones cornered and attacked.
But the idea of facing him… It made me sick to my stomach.
I knew the moment had come when heavy footsteps sounded outside my door. A single knock struck the wood.
I was on the couch, and the second I felt his presence on the other side of the door, my stomach tightened into knots. My eyes remained on the open window, the very window he’d crawled through to get to me last time.
He opened the door and let himself inside.
I could see his outline out of the corner of my eye. His broad shoulders. His powerful chest. His impressive height. Without actually seeing him, I could make out the features of his face based on his energy. His eyes were hard with remorse. His jaw clenched in regret.
He shut the door behind himself and sat in the chair Ryker had occupied days ago.
I breathed harder when he was near, so heartbroken by what he’d done to me.
He was quiet, as if giving me the opportunity to speak first, to look at him once I was ready.
I kept my gaze on the window because I would never be ready.
“I know you didn’t want to see me. And I wanted to give you space.”
“I still don’t want to see you.” My knees were to my chest, my arms hooked around them. The sunlight was visible outside the window, the town glowing with midday heat. “If it were possible, I’d never see you again.”
He had nothing to say to that, judging by the three minutes of silence that passed.
“Please go.” The sadness was in my voice, in the quiet way I spoke, the defeat in my tone.
“I meant that promise when I made it. And I intended to keep it every step of the way. But I found my mother in an old storage room. Your family removed our portraits and threw them in the basement, and when she found them, she broke down in a way I’ve never seen. I stood there, listening to her sob, holding a picture of my father as if she’d just lost him yesterday.” He kept his voice steady, emotionless. “That terrible night came back to me. Your father held her down and forced her—and not once did she cry. Not once did she give him any satisfaction. But seeing her collapsed on the floor…made me realize she’d been holding that in for twenty years. I snapped…and lost it. I can’t even remember doing it. I was out of my mind, deranged.”
I kept my eyes straight ahead. “I understand why you did it, Huntley. You could have gone down there and tortured him until he begged for death…and I would have understood. What I don’t understand is how you can make a promise to the woman you love and not keep it. That’s what I can’t comprehend.”
He said nothing.
“You don’t love me. Not enough anyway.”
“That’s not true.”
“It must be true. Because you chose revenge over love. You have to live with that decision now.”
He inhaled a slow breath, an audible one that showed his pain. “I would take it back if I could—”
“But you can’t. It’s done.”
He gave another exhale. “I’m sorry.”
I didn’t forgive him. Would never forgive him.
“You really think if our situations were reversed, you would have done anything differently?”
That got my head to turn, got me to look at him head on for the first time. Now, I saw how he really looked, how sunken his eyes appeared, how bloodshot they were. His expression was tight with tension, as if his entire body had been clenched all week, as if he’d been holding his breath in anticipation of this conversation. There was no confidence. There was no arrogance. Just sorrow. “There’s nothing in this world that’s worth losing you, Huntley.”
He inhaled a deep breath, and his eyes tightened in pain, as if my words were an arrow to his heart. He was the one to look away, to sever the contact too painful to sustain.