Page 189 of Unmasked

My legs were shaking as Vaughn stood me up. The door shut, and he eased the blanket off, wincing as he crouched to take in the numerous welts and lacerations from the cane. Over and over, he traced the lines, shaking his head, but staying silent. Finally, he lifted the shirt, sliding it over my head, but he didn’t stand.

“Vaughn.” My voice was barely audible from all the screaming. He looked up, his hazel eyes welled with tears as my voice cracked. “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?”

“For all of it. For this and… failing The Order. I couldn’t keep it safe.” My body trembled as the tears fell. “We lost so many guards.”

His arms crushed me to him, and he buried his face in my chest.

“Do you not see nothing matters to me but you?” Broken up breaths left him, and he finally looked up. I wiped the tears as his eyes searched mine. “You didn’t fail, Penelope, I did. You tried to warn me, and I didn’t listen.”

“Is the Reeve…?”

“Alive. Shot twice, but already on the mend.”

My knees almost gave out.

“Theodore?”

“Fine. Awaiting George.” Vaughn held open the pajama pants, helping me step into them. “We lost men, but that is a price we’ll never pay again. The most important part is that we found you. I just wish…” He lifted me, holding me to his chest. “I wish we could have found you sooner.”

CHAPTER 63

Lawrence

This wasn’t real.

This wasn’t happening.

I looked around at the large presence of guards that surrounded and stared at me… but they weren’t mine.

I took in the two thrones… which weren’t mine either.

Hate penetrated through the dozens of eyes that glared in my direction as we all waited. Where I was restrained and kneeled in the middle of the large room, I couldn’t see anyone but killers. Killers I’d cursed. Ones I had ridiculed and yelled at in the beginning.

I had been angry then. Furious, if I wanted to be honest. I was king, and I hadn’t believed Vaughn’s claims that The Council suddenly chose him. But the longer I took in everything I knew, I started to have doubts. The Sultan’s warnings on breeching The Order returned, and with it, the truth sent fear settling deep inside my gut.

If I wasn’t king, who was I? What would happen to me? Would Vaughn really kill me? Would they allow him to? Surely not… Surely someone would step in and pardon me.

But what if they didn’t?

My eyes lowered as questions flooded in.

I’d breached enemy lines.

I had taken a woman who belonged to another because I wanted her. Because I thought myself in love with her.

And didn’t I love her?

So what if I’d beaten or caned her. Pain was passion. I couldn’t help but love her even more because of it. Love was worth fighting for. That’s what all the books and poets said. And Penelope was brainwashed. Manipulated. Why should Vaughn be the only one who was allowed to have her like that? Wasn’t all fair in love and war?

My eyes rose again.

King. No way he was the king.

Yet… That was clearly a throne. And he had been wearing a crown.

My gaze dropped almost just as fast. Questions plagued me, stealing me from the hard stone under my knees.