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I sigh, dropping my shoulders. “I hate the media. They twist our lives into some sorry soap opera. Abby died in my arms, and in all those dozens of photographers that surrounded us, not one called an ambulance. Not. One. They snapped photos of her last moments instead of helping.”
They did nothing, just like me.Isn’t that why I hate those images? Because it reminds me of my greatest failure? How I froze, holding my dying fiancée, unable to move or help? How I failed to call anyone? How I failed to perform CPR? How I watched her die and did absolutely nothing to stop it?
Penelope lets out a sigh, lowering her eyes to the floor. For the first time in a long, long time, I see the tension rippling through her shoulders. She’s usually the strong one. The unshakeable, unbreakable one—but is that weighing on her? Have I been too hard on my sister?
She lifts her eyes to mine. “Is she pregnant, Wolfe?”
“No,” I reply emphatically. “No, she’s not pregnant.”
She nods. “I’ll get the media team to do some damage control. They usually advise us to do nothing in cases like these. Feeding the beast only makes it hungrier. We won’t respond to rumors.” Turning back to her vanity, she sits down and starts dusting her face with powder, signaling that I’m dismissed.
I leave the room, letting out a heavy sigh. My sister is still my sister, but she’s the Queen first. She has to bear the weight of the crown and think of what’s best for the family. She has to make decisions I wouldn’t want to make—all while carrying her own scars.
I know why she has a cold exterior. I know why she seems callous sometimes—but damn, if it doesn’t make my blood boil. I feel like a child who’s just been scolded. I’m a grown man!
I make my way to the dining room, hoping to find my brothers. When I walk in, Jonah glances up at me. He reaches for a platter full of bacon, heaping a few rashers onto his plate before looking at me again. “Haven’t seen much of you around lately.” He grins, pushing his cropped black hair back off his forehead.
Silas grunts from the corner of the room. A tumbler of bourbon dangles between his fingertips. “He’s been too busy banging the architect.”
“Screw you,” I grumble. “Isn’t it a bit early for a drink?”
“Hair of the dog.” Silas grins. “Late night last night. Need to take the edge off.”
“How am I the one in the tabloids?” I frown, staring at Silas’ rumpled clothes and half-drunk, half-hungover face.
Jonah whistles, wiggling his eyebrows. “So it’s true.”
“You like her.” Silas ambles over to me, his blue eyes flashing. His rich, chocolate hair curls around his temples and makes his eyes look even more piercing. He’s the one who always has women screaming for him. Not me. He’s the one who’s slept with every pretty maid who’s ever walked the palace halls.
And now he’s giving me shit?
Silas claps me on the shoulder, laughing. “About time you got laid. Four years is a long time without a nice, warm pussy.”
“Shut up, Silas.” I pour myself a cup of coffee.
Silas throws his hands up as he backs away, grinning. He sinks into a chair and stretches out, wrinkling his nose when a waiter offers him eggs and bacon. I guess bourbon is the breakfast of champions in Silas’ world.
Jonah glances at me from across the room, trying to read my mood. How could he, though? How could he know what thoughts are going through my mind?
I’m here with my brothers, with my sister, in the castle where we spend most of our time. Things, from the outside, are exactly as they were a couple of months ago.
But I feel different. Deep in my gut, I know I’ve changed. My steps aren’t as heavy. My spine is straighter. When I wake up, I don’t feel the dark sense of dread that kept me down for four years. My grief isn’t quite as painful as it was before, and a thin seed of hope has sprouted in my heart.
…but for what? For who? For me to date Rowan, officially? My sister the Queen didn’t seem too happy about that, and her word is law around here.
But, but, but… what if?
Who says we can’t be together?
As I listen to my brothers, I try to let my thoughts drift away from the red-haired goddess who has occupied them for the better part of the past two months. I won’t let the media tear her to shreds the way they did to Abby. I won’t let her be exposed and dissected by the public. If she’s with me, I’ll protect her. I’ll do what I couldn’t do before, even if it kills me.
After breakfast,I’m already waiting in Rowan’s office when she arrives.
“Come here, beautiful,” I growl, reaching for her hand.
Rowan stiffens, letting me pull her into my chest but not wrapping her arms around me or tilting her head up for a kiss.
Something’s off. A cold jet of ice water shoots down my spine.
