Total pages in book: 155
Estimated words: 147891 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 739(@200wpm)___ 592(@250wpm)___ 493(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147891 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 739(@200wpm)___ 592(@250wpm)___ 493(@300wpm)
“He tries to hurt himself,” Rowan states before shoveling rice into his mouth. “Kill himself, even. It’s fucked up.”
“Language,” Maeve sighs, but there’s hardly any effort to her tone. I can tell she, too, wants this day to be over with. Or to at least get some sleep.
I notice Killian stiffen and clutch his fork tighter. “He would never do that,” he grumbles.
“I dunno,” Rowan says. “A man can only handle so many losses, brother.”
“He wouldn’t do that to us,” Killian snaps this time, slamming his fork down and pushing away from the table. He stomps out of the kitchen without looking back, and the dining room is wrapped in a suffocating layer of silence.
Juniper sips some of her wine and Maeve leans back, pulling out a bloom and sparking it. Rowan twiddles his fork around in his fingers with his eyes on his plate.
“What if that’s the one thing I can’t save him from?” I ask, looking at all of them. “Himself?”
Maeve pulls from her bloom, and when she exhales, the smoke tendrils fall to her lap. “I believe you are exactly where you need to be. He knows you’re here. He knows the pain it would cause you if he ever…” Her voice trails, and she shakes her head. “He loves you. He’ll hang on.” She pushes my plate toward me. “Now eat up. I know it’s not as great as Della’s cooking, but you need your energy.”
Chapter 63
CAZ
By the time Willow finds me, the sky is black and the branches of the trees outside my balcony cave inward like an umbrella. The rain came down hard about an hour ago, pelting on the leaves and weighing them down. I’d been tempted to go inside, but the drops that did land on me felt nice on my skin and cooled the burn inside me.
The rain has stopped, and now the moon is a round chip in the sky, beaming down on me. There’s a chill in the air, I’m shirtless, and my hands and feet are cold, but I have no desire to go back into the room and light a fire.
After the last couple of days, I’d rather stay out here and freeze—feel something just so I can remember life’s precious moments. If I sink too deep without feeling, I may never come back up for air, so this is where I need to be. On the ice-cold balcony, staring at the ocean and moon.
“I can feel you,” I say after taking a pull from my bloom.
Willow steps out, her bare heels landing on the damp marble. She’s changed clothes. A fresh ivory gown. Her hair swims down her back. She immediately wraps her arms around herself when she realizes how cold it is.
“How long have you been out here?” she asks.
“Since I came back in.”
“Oh. I came in here to look for you but didn’t see you. Guess you were out here the whole time.”
“You guessed right.” I heard her come in. heard her call my name. As badly as I wanted her, I didn’t want her to see my anger. Because that’s what I was after Della’s send off. Angry.
I put out my bloom, and her eyes drop to the ashtray on the side table next to me. It’s full of stunted blooms, and I’m ashamed to say many of them are from today.
Willow remains standing, shivering while eyeing me. Sighing, I get out of my chair and wrap an arm around her, leading her inside.
I shut the balcony door and draw the curtains closed while she walks to the bed, sitting on the edge of it. The lamp on the nightstand illuminates one half of her face.
I move to the fireplace, tossing in a few logs and finding the matchbook on the stand next to it. I light the match, toss it inside, and the fire crackles to life.
I stand again, looking at her as she looks at me. I want to sit next to her, but I can’t. I’ve thought about it all on the balcony—how I want her to stay with me, how I want a life with her…but how can I have any of that when she’d constantly be at risk? Her life is quite literally in my hands, and I want to protect her, I do, but I can’t be with her at all times—it’s impossible as a monarch—and I saw it with Della. A few days away from her, and now she’s gone. If I’d been here, she never would’ve died, and if the same happens to Willow…fuck. I don’t know what I’d do to myself.
So, I don’t sit with her. Instead, I walk to the closet, taking out a shirt and pulling it over my head.
“I’m not going to leave you alone,” she says when I step out of the closet.