I wiggled my wrists in his hold, wanting to caress his cheek and soothe him. He tightened his grip.
“You have to let me handle it,” I said. “Whatever happens, you can’t do anything to Ned. You can’t go to my mom. You can’t.” My voice was soft, looking at him with round eyes. Pleading. “Promise me, Theo.”
He ground his jaw. “I’m not playing this game—”
“It’s not a fucking game. Promise me.”
Theo exhaled through his nostrils. I waited. I wasn’t going to give in. I wasn’t going to let Theo throw his life away for me.
“I promise,” he said, spitting out the words like bitter coffee.
Before I could say another word, he slammed his lips against mine. The kiss was different—Theo was different. Rushed. Pressured. Intense. More. Like he was trying to use me up. All of me. It was exhilarating and scary.
He ripped apart sateen buttons holding my gown together, shoving it down until I was in a puddle of green satin and black lace. I took off his jacket in the same breath he unbuttoned his shirt, then his pants.
His large hands tangled in my hair, controlling my head so soft lips were on my neck, biting, bruising. He walked me back to the bed, hot skin flush against mine. His thick, muscled arms wrapped around me, holding me close.
I don’t know why this feels like an ending.
He fished a condom out of his pants pocket, and I put it on him this time. He was hot and hard beneath my hand, and he watched me do it, a hunger in his eyes that made my hands shake. When I finished, I trailed my fingers up the sculpted ridges of his eight pack, sliding up his pecs, around his neck.
Theo pressed my collarbone, pushing me back to the bed with gentle force. Against the satin bedspread, I crawled on my elbows as he climbed on top of me. His lips found me almost as soon as they left me. Theo was looming, predatory, and ravenous.
Then he was there—so agonizingly close to sliding inside me.
I want to feel Theo without the barrier. I’ve never considered it before, but now it’s all I want.
“Theo,” I breathed his name like a prayer.
He pulled back so our foreheads were pressed, lips are a feather’s distance from mine. Tenderness warmed his eyes, but some other grim emotion distorted it, made it raw and aching.
“I love you, Abigail.”
It was so quiet, I thought maybe I’d misheard.
I hope I did.
He can’t love me. He can’t.
“Through your lies and your emotional garbage, I love you—”
“You can’t,” I blurted.
All the warmth was sucked out of the room with my words, and suddenly I was ice cold beneath him.
Theo looked like I’d slapped him. “I can’t?”
He was still in that same aching spot. I was riding a wicked, dangerous edge, my heartbeat too loud in my ears. The throbbing between my thighs, the one in my heart, and the one rising in my throat all distort to one twisted feeling.
“I mean—” I could feel him pulling away and I didn’t want him to do it physically so I grappled onto his shoulders. “I don’t know why I said that.”
Yes, I did.
Theo Hound couldn’t love me. It would be so much harder to keep him separate. To keep him safe.
Keep me safe.
Theo pushed off me and my heart rushed and pounded as he got farther away. I was screwing this up. I was fucking up everything. He was yanking on his jeans, throwing on his shirt, and I couldn’t think of the right words to fix it.
“Theo, wait—”
He stopped, his jeans unbuttoned, giving me one last chance.
I had nothing. Nothing could make what he’d said okay. If the one boy—the one person—I couldn’t lose in this world started to love me, then I could lose him forever.
The door slammed behind him. I should run after him and tell him how much I love him. I never stopped loving him. He was as essential to my heart as the blood that made it beat.
Instead I fell to my back.
The feel of our almost still lingered between my thighs, a deep-rooted, unsatisfied ache that now matched the one spreading from my chest. I was drowning. Wet, like he’d made me. Wet, from my tears.
Tears fell down my cheeks, but I didn’t sob. I couldn’t. I was too shocked. Of all the fuckups I’d ever made, this was the worst. I didn’t just make him think it was okay to love me… I made him think I was worth it.
Twenty-Three
ABIGAIL
I’d fucked up so much. Theo and I hadn’t spoken since last night, and now he just stood guard outside my room, like nothing happened. I’d opened my mouth so many times to speak, and each time closed it. I didn’t know what to say or do to fix it.
Edward was the perfect needle to pop our rose-tinted bubble.
I was the perfect needle.
“Ten minutes until breakfast.”
I slammed my laptop shut at his voice.
He eyed the action, pain flickering in his eyes, but said nothing, stepping back to position. Guilt slammed into me.
I’d caved and emailed a PI, and they’d messaged me back, told me they thought they weren’t sure they could find Theo’s mother, not with the little information I’d given them, but they’d try. I didn’t know how to tell him. Theo had made it clear he didn’t want to look for her, and I was worried he’d be mad, especially after last night.
“Theo, wait!” I threw my laptop off my lap, jumping off the bed. “Let me explain.”
He stared forward. “You don’t owe me any explanations.”
“But—”
“You’re going to be late for breakfast, Ms. Crowne.”
Ms. Crowne. It was like the past months never happened. Last night never happened.
I sighed and walked back into my bedroom to get dressed. In Switzerland, we always had to dress up, but at least for breakfast a tea-length periwinkle tulle dress would do, rather than a gown. Theo was in another mouthwatering slate-gray suit.
We were just outside the breakfast hall when I grasped Theo’s sleeve, forcing him to acknowledge me. Even though Theo had been keeping his distance, he’d been even more protective, if it was possible. He refused to let me walk into any room first. He was constantly on guard.
“Ask me a truth or promise,” I said, tugging on his sleeve, wrinkling the perfect press. He turned around, shoulders tensed.
I took a step anyway, reaching for him. “Ask me.”
“Rethink that step.” The hate in his growl could set a house on fire.
I paused.
Had I really messed everything up so badly?
A moment passed, and then I noticed he wasn’t looking at me. I followed his stare over my shoulder. Ned was frozen mid step.
That was all Theo said. He hadn’t moved from his spot behind me, arms folded as usual, head slightly down like he was bored at a concert. But it was all he needed to say. Menace dripped off him.
Ned took a step back. “Guess the rumors about your dog are true…”
He smiled somewhat nervously, looking over my shoulder.
“He bites,” I said.
“I’m just here to remind you you’ll be sitting next to me tomorrow at lunch,” Ned said, though he didn’t take his eyes off Theo.
“Great,” I said, disdain oozing from my lips.
“You can’t be there all the time, dog,” Ned said, eyes on Theo.
A foreign look flickered across Theo’s face. Fear?
That couldn’t be right.
When he saw me watching him, it vanished.
Theo leaned forward until he was over my shoulder, just next to my face. He clamped his teeth harsh and fast, the sound echoing, the motion fluttering the hair at my neck.
It made goose bumps of excitement pepper my flesh, but Ned jumped and scampered inside the dining hall.
The moment filled like a balloon, popping with our simultaneous laughter. For a minute I thought the mess I’d made last night was over, but then I caught his gaze as
I wiped a tear from my eye, and his smile dropped. Silence descended once more.
“Theo—”
“Breakfast, Ms. Crowne,” Theo cut me off, throwing his arm out toward the dining hall.
I studied his face, waiting—hoping he’d look back at me with anything other than boredom and disdain.
Then I sighed and walked inside the dining hall.
THEO
Abigail fell asleep late into the night, and now I dug my elbows into my knee, my chin on steepled hands, watching her.
I couldn’t sleep, couldn’t stop thinking. Edward knew the truth long before it hit me brutal and hard. He was untouchable.
“These little dates of ours are growing too common.”
I lifted my head.
Tansy stood in the shadows, aglow only from the soft light leaking from Abigail’s bedroom. Quietly, so as not to wake Abigail, I crossed the room and met Tansy outside the bedroom door.
“You know who that man is. You know what he’s done to your daughter.”
Tansy barely registered emotion. “The boy you assaulted like a common street thug? Or do you mean our daughter’s fiancé? Our valued friend’s son?”
“He’s lucky he’s not dead,” I gritted.
She sighed through her nostrils. “Let’s get to the point. You need something from me, and I’m… in a mood to give it to you.”
As far as I knew there was nothing I could offer this woman. Tansy Crowne had everything, but I’d spent enough time in this world to know the fact that she even came meant there was something she wanted from me. Something money couldn’t buy.
That thought didn’t reassure me.
“What do you want?”
She pursed her lips. “Break up with her.”
ABIGAIL
I woke to the sound of my mother’s voice, drifting into my bedroom like a dream.
Abigail…
Next came Theo’s voice.
Guards… Harlington…
I blinked, rubbing my eyes, adjusting to the soft light of my bedroom. I waited, ears perked, but only heard the sound of a door shutting, and silence.
“Theo?” I called out after a moment.
He came, still dressed in the suit he’d worn earlier today, though it was wrinkled now. Had he ever gone to bed?
“Did I hear my mom?” I asked, sitting up. “What were you talking about?”
His face was cold. It had been cold. It was worse than before; at least then he’d given me anger and contempt. Now there was nothing.
I rubbed my arm, trying to brush away goose bumps.
“She was reaming me for attacking her precious guest.”
He slammed the door.
Twenty-Four
ABIGAIL
The air was weird and toxic. For lunch, we all sat outside beneath a canopied table amidst the green gardens and sprawling lawn. It was reminiscent of a medieval tournament, minus the knights. At least the arranged marriages had remained.
I was next to Edward, and Theo? He was all the way down… next to Gemma.
Oddly enough, I had four new guards at my back, but I would trade every one for Theo.
“You look beautiful,” Edward said to my left.
“You look constipated,” I said without looking at him.
I couldn’t take my eyes off Theo. Gemma’s guard had come down with the flu. At least, that was what they said.
It shouldn’t bother me, but I couldn’t stop bouncing my leg. It shook the table. After last night and this morning, my insides were filled with fire ants.
It was just like before. I’d pushed and pushed and pushed, and in the end, scared him away.
Scared him off to Gemma.
He was with her. I was with Edward. This was not how it was supposed to be. Why couldn’t I just tell him the truth?
Edward grabbed my hand and clenched so hard my bones felt like they were breaking.
I gasped, forced to look at him. “Ow!”
“Are your eyes caught in a glue trap?”
A tight smile wrinkled his cheeks, but there was nothing warm about it.
I tried to wrangle my hand free. “Let go.”
He tightened his grip and I swear my bones caved in. I think a normal individual would feel a life-preservation instinct looking into the face of their stalker. Would at least weigh the pros and cons of their next move.
I bit my lower lip.
Bad idea face…
I knocked over his wineglass and plate of braised turkey, spilling them onto his lap.
He released me at once, jumping up.
I’d accomplished what I wanted, so I definitely should act like it was an accident and return to my food.
I grabbed my wineglass and, with shoulders back, stood up and threw it in his face. Pink liquid splashed and blinded him. He sputtered and scoffed, wiping it with both hands before blinking at me like I’d just killed his dog.
“Now you look a little bit more handsome,” I said, folding the arm with the empty glass over the other. “But not by much.”
The table grew quiet. My mother and grandpa, his parents, and my siblings were no doubt watching this unfold. No one had seen what Edward had done, and, honestly, they wouldn’t care. So what if he’d grabbed me a little harshly? It was much worse to make a scene.
All this would be blamed on Abigail Crowne, fire starter.
Edward raised a hand like he was going to slap me, and on instinct, I closed my eyes. When nothing happened, I opened them.
My heart sank.
One of my new guards had stepped between us. It was just like every other guard I’d had before Theo. It didn’t matter if I was about to be hit, you can’t make a scene.
A part of me thought Theo might have saved me… I looked over to where he stood behind Gemma. He hadn’t even so much as spared me a glance.
I couldn’t fucking take this. I couldn’t watch him choose Gemma. Screw third course or dessert or the fact that this was supposed to be for my engagement.
“Where the fuck are you going?” Edward snapped at my back.
“Darling?” my mother’s voice trilled over my shoulder.
One word, but her tone spoke so much more.
Don’t make a scene.
Edward had a dirty secret. He stalked and terrorized me, but all the wealthy had dirty secrets, some dirtier than others. No one gave a shit so long as they didn’t air it.
“Literally anywhere but here,” I said coolly.
My foot hadn’t even landed on the first step when I was yanked back by my hair. I grabbed my scalp so I wouldn’t fall and have my hair ripped out.
Conversation stopped, the clinking of forks silenced.
“Edward…” his mother’s voice warned with the tone of scolding a child who’d taken a toy that didn’t belong to him.
“She’s mine. She’s fucking mine. I saw her first.” Another hard yank and I hissed, unable to hold it in.
I couldn’t see anyone. My vision blurred on Edward’s shiny black shoes… and then he let go.
I shot up, hands going to my head, scalp burning where he’d grabbed me. Two of my guards were at his back, holding him by his shoulders with a gentle yet firm touch. The other two stepped between us. How my mother would be proud, I thought venomously. They really knew how to keep up appearances.
Edward pushed wet hair out of his face, locked on me. The more he did it, the more unhinged he looked.
“Well…” my mom finally said, tapping fingers along her chin. “No need for coffee. I feel quite awake.”
Gray, Gemma, and Horace were all uncharacteristically silent, with looks that might even be misconstrued as concern. I didn’t want to be pitied, especially by my fucking siblings. Theo was finally looking at me, but his face was a mask.
Tears bobbed up my throat.
Humiliated at being used as a rag doll.
Humiliated because Theo had done nothing.
So I ran, sprinted until I was buoyed by silence, hidden in one of the many hallwa
ys of the castle. I leaned against a stone wall warmed by an opposite window, catching my breath.
My guards followed me from the garden, taking staggered posts along the hallway. I hated them, hated their very existence. They had gotten Edward off me. They’d done their job, but their presence meant Theo hadn’t.
Had I ruined everything? Did he hate me so much? Or did he… did he maybe love her after all?
My scalp burned, but my eyes were absolutely on fire. I swiped tears.
“Abigail.”
I snapped my head up at the voice. Light from cathedral windows bathed Theo in diamonds of chiaroscuro. White-gold sunshine warmed his lips, and shadows sculpted his cheekbones.
Feet of hallway separated us. His brows were drawn, his jaw clenched, and there was a war in his eyes I wondered if I’d started. Did he think I didn’t love him, that everything was a lie?
“Hi,” I managed.
Without a word he came to me and grasped my neck, pulling me to his chest.
He exhaled a soft sigh of exasperation, stroking my hair.
His shirt was soft too, and he smelled divine. It was so faint, so Theo. You only get to know the scent if you were paying attention, if you were close; fresh and clean, but spicy, and something else, something inscrutable. Something dark, a scent that made me curl my toes. He was home; he was safety. A scent I wanted to bury my nose in forever.
His palm landed on my scalp, stroking the aching place Edward had ripped.
He pulled back after a minute, but it felt like only a second. I searched his eyes. Even though he was staring right back, he was so far away. My lips parted to say something… I don’t know, anything.
I opened my mouth and came up with nothing.
He took my hand, the one Edward had bruised, in both of his, tracing lines along the redness, brows drawn. Our breathing warmed the air like a summertime breeze, but desperation strangled it like storm clouds. He gripped me like it was for the last time.
“Ask me.” It came out on a croak, and I swallowed, searching for courage. “Ask me, truth or promise?”
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