Page 10 of Wicked Queen

“Belle is losing it. She’s really concerned,” he said softly.

“Look,” I began to explain, but the door to Alexander’s office opened before I could. “We’ll talk later. Don’t say anything.”

Edward’s gaze flickered to the ground but then he inclined his head in agreement. He might be Alexander’s brother, but his loyalty was to me. I didn’t like putting him in this position, but technically, I hadn’t been the one to do it.

Alexander stepped into view, stealing any further warning from my lips. A knot tightened in my stomach at the sight of him. Usually he wore blue or gray, but today he’d opted for a black three-piece suit. His tie was knotted at his throat and the lightest stubble dusted his jawline. I hadn’t seen him this morning. He must have had his clothes delivered to him. Power radiated off him and I fought my body’s response to it. Pressure ached in my chest until I was certain I might crack open and spill my heart at his feet. I belonged to him. I couldn’t deny it. I knew it all the way to my bones. He was in my blood. His heart beat in my chest. He owned me.

We stared at one another, oblivious to anyone else. Alexander’s face betrayed nothing. His eyes were cold, hard sapphires that contained none of the fire that usually ignited the moment we saw each other.

I’d told him I hated him. I’d meant it in the moment. I hated how I couldn’t control myself around him. I hated that I would always forgive him. I hated how he consumed me.

And I loved him for all those same reasons.

But behind his detachment, the only thing I spied was venom. Our love had become poison, and it was killing us both slowly.

The world returned around us—seconds later, or minutes, or hours—I didn’t know how long the moment had stretched. It felt like an eternity.

Edward looked from him to me, staying silent. Did he feel the weight of the air as acutely as I suddenly did?

Alexander’s head turned away from me, his nostrils flaring for a moment before he spoke. “I need to speak to my brother. Alone.”

“I brought David and I think—”

“Just you,” Alexander said, leaving no room for further debate.

Edward threw an apologetic look at his husband. He looked torn between accepting his brother’s demand and refusing it.

“It’s okay, babe. I’ll hang with Clara.” David gave him a quick kiss, his eyes shifting between all of us warily.

“Maybe she should be in there, too,” Edward suggested.

“No,” I said before Alexander could clarify what I already knew. He wasn’t excluding David from this meeting. He was rejecting me. I’d been included until I’d opened my big mouth and said the one thing I should never have said to him. The one thing I’d promised I never would say. My throat slid over the ache of tears. I refused to cry in front of them.

Edward mashed his lips together and set his shoulders before striding into the office. He looked like a man going to his death. He knew bad news was coming his way. I knew that it wouldn’t matter if David was in there or if I was next to him. Nothing was going to soften this betrayal.

Alexander paused at the door like he was going to say something. His blue eyes found mine, but instead of speaking, he shut the door between us.

“Walk?” David suggested softly.

“I need to get Elizabeth first.” My voice cracked a bit, but I pretended to cough. I wasn’t fooling him, but he didn’t call me on it.

I didn’t need to get Elizabeth. She was fine with Penny, but right now I needed a tangible connection to Alexander. The baby had been particularly calm today and I missed his wild kicks. My daughter would distract me from this mess. Being with her would remind me of what was really important.

It took us a few minutes to wrangle Elizabeth into a jacket and shoes.

“I’m sorry, ma’am. She wouldn’t nap. She seems determined to stay awake,” Penny said, as Elizabeth threw her body backwards in protest of being zipped up.

“Stubborn girl,” I murmured to her. “Just like your father.”

When I finally had her bundled up enough for the cool spring day, David was grinning from the door.

“Don’t laugh,” I warned him. “I won’t have any sympathy when it’s your turn.”

“I might be borrowing yours,” he said, a shade of regret in his words.

“If you want to talk,” I offered as we headed through the western wing toward the gardens.

“I feel like I could say the same.”