Page 93 of Feral King

“I’m so sorry.”

“Thanks. It happened a few years ago. I took some time off work and moved my sister to New York, so I could help out more with the girls. I still do, whenever I can.”

“And Julian let you?”

“Julian insisted. He told me that I had a duty. He paid me my full salary through the time off, and he brought me back as soon as I got my sister squared away.”

His words warm my heart. It’s no surprise that Julian has a soft spot for kids. All the same, hearing this makes me like him just a little bit more.

And I’m really starting to warm up to Ethan. Learning that he’s the kind of brother willing to drop everything for his sister and his nieces is endearing.

On top of that, he’s deeply competent. Having him close at hand makes me feel safe, which says a lot, seeing as someone in this town wants me dead. Not to mention there’s a team of six other bodyguards all within a hundred feet of our location at any given moment that we’re out of the apartment.

But Ethan’s amazing at keeping them out of sight and not making me feel like I’m a moving zoo exhibit.

“Julian is different with you. In the twelve years I’ve known him, I’ve never seen him—” he pauses, choosing his words carefully. “He plans for everything. Every contingency, every scenario, every possible outcome. But with you, he doesn’t plan. He reacts. It makes him better in some ways and worse in others.”

“Worse how?”

“He’s making decisions with his heart, instead of with his head. In our world, that gets people killed.” He takes a beat. “But he’s also happier with you than I’ve ever seen him. So there’s that.”

We’re at the register paying when the door chimes. I glance over and my blood runs cold, my instincts instantly firing.

Sophia.

Ethan’s already on his phone, no doubt preparing to have his men move in.

“Wait,” I tell him.

He pauses. “Are you sure?”

There’s something off about her. She doesn’t look haughty or self-assured. She looks… lost.

“I want to talk to her.”

“Lyra, I don’t think that’s a good decision.”

“You can stay close and have the other guys watch, but I want to give her a few seconds.”

Ethan’s lips form a thin line, as if trying to decide whether or not to let me have my way or to put his foot down.

“Fine. I don’t like it, but fine. If she doesanythingI don’t like, she gets tackled.”

“Yeah, I get it.”

Ethan takes the bag from the counter and we walk outside. Sophia follows. When we stop outside the door, her hands fall to her sides, and she looks like she has no idea what to do with herself.

She’s thinner, paler. The bold red lips from the fundraiser are gone, replaced with a nude gloss that washes her out. Her coat is wrinkled, her hair mussed.

“I know you don’t want to see me,” she says. “I know I don’t deserve any of your time. But I need to say something. And then I’ll go.”

Ethan takes position a couple of feet away. He raises his eyebrows, silently asking if I want him to get rid of her. I shake my head quickly. Not yet.

“Talk,” I say.

“I was wrong about Alex.” She says it quick, like she's been rehearsing it, and she is afraid she'll say it wrong if she doesn’t say it fast. “I was wrong about everything. He’s not who I thought he was, Lyra. When we were together, when I was with him, I thought I was special. I thought he chose me because I was better. More of what he wanted.” She swallows hard before continuing. “But I wasn’t better, I was just easier to control.”

I don’t respond. This is either the best performance she’s ever given or the first honest thing she’s said in years.