hand over hers. Her fingers lazily trace my taut stomach muscles.
“I’m sorry,” she murmurs. “I just wanted us to have a chance. I thought that if you wouldn’t fight for us, then I would.”
Her words sting me as if Harley himself had touched my dead heart with his poisonous hands, and I turn to look at her. “Do you think of me a coward, Little Mia?” I frown hard, both hurt and annoyed by the thought.
She’s staring at her feet, looking solemn and sad, her eyes rimmed in red, and it pains me to see her like this, but not as much as it pains me for her to think of me in such a lowly way. She shakes her head, the tears finally spilling free, and I swallow down the last of my annoyance. My hands grasp her shoulders and I push her against the back wall, tilt her face to mine, and claim her mouth for my own. She is eager and opens up to me at once, her hands roving to my back. I grab her hands and place them above her head, holding her in place as I steal kisses from her waiting mouth. Heat trembles through my muscles, her emotions wrapping and mingling with my own, and I push her harder, sucking gently on her bottom lip until she groans against my mouth and I feel her body quaking.
I pull away and look into her face, waiting for her eyes to flutter open so I know that she is listening properly. So I know that she understands exactly what I am telling her to be truth.
“I am no coward, Little Mia. I want you like I’ve never wanted another—”
“…then,” she interrupts, but I let go of her arms and press my finger to her lips.
“Shush, woman,” I growl out, “I am no coward, but I am a man of my word, and I promised my servitude to our queen. She did more than save my life, and for that I will always be grateful. Nothing can break that bond . . .” I look away, thinking of the Queen’s last words to me.
…I will take her head…
Would I stand by and let Mia be killed? Could I do that? I have given nearly a hundred years to our queen—almost a hundred years of my life to someone else—and I am prepared to give another hundred without question…until the thought of harm coming to Mia. So no, I realise, I will not stand by and let Mia be killed, but there will be a time and a place for that, and I cannot complicate matters between now and then.
I take a step back from her, needing space, needing to think. This is all such a mess. I rub a hand down my face and look back at Mia.
“Perhaps I should explain more fully to you,” I say, and she nods but doesn’t look up at me.
I take her hand and lead her towards my library—well, the Queen’s library, but one she has long since forgotten about, no doubt, since I am the only one in over forty years to enter it. Mia comes, reluctantly being pulled behind me like a spoiled brat, her footsteps dragging along the floor, a huff leaving her every once in a while. The entire time I pull her along with me, even though my head and heart are confused and full of worry and stress I can’t help but smile, a chuckle at her childishness never a breath away from my lips.
We reach the door and I unlock it and pull her inside with me, letting go of her hand only briefly to lock the door behind us before taking it again and leading her toward the chairs we had been sitting in previously. I push her into one and I take the other. And now we are face to face, and I must tell her my story.
“I am going to talk, woman, and you are going to listen. I will tell you why I am forever indebted to her, and then perhaps you will have a better understanding of everything—of me. Perhaps then you will know that no matter how much I,” her features perk up as I speak, “care for you, I will not break my vow. Perhaps then you will not think so little of me. I do not want you to interrupt and ask questions. Just listen. Do you understand, Mia?” I try to soften my features so I don’t seem as cruel, but it’s hard, because the truth is I have never told this story to
“I’m sorry,” she murmurs. “I just wanted us to have a chance. I thought that if you wouldn’t fight for us, then I would.”
Her words sting me as if Harley himself had touched my dead heart with his poisonous hands, and I turn to look at her. “Do you think of me a coward, Little Mia?” I frown hard, both hurt and annoyed by the thought.
She’s staring at her feet, looking solemn and sad, her eyes rimmed in red, and it pains me to see her like this, but not as much as it pains me for her to think of me in such a lowly way. She shakes her head, the tears finally spilling free, and I swallow down the last of my annoyance. My hands grasp her shoulders and I push her against the back wall, tilt her face to mine, and claim her mouth for my own. She is eager and opens up to me at once, her hands roving to my back. I grab her hands and place them above her head, holding her in place as I steal kisses from her waiting mouth. Heat trembles through my muscles, her emotions wrapping and mingling with my own, and I push her harder, sucking gently on her bottom lip until she groans against my mouth and I feel her body quaking.
I pull away and look into her face, waiting for her eyes to flutter open so I know that she is listening properly. So I know that she understands exactly what I am telling her to be truth.
“I am no coward, Little Mia. I want you like I’ve never wanted another—”
“…then,” she interrupts, but I let go of her arms and press my finger to her lips.
“Shush, woman,” I growl out, “I am no coward, but I am a man of my word, and I promised my servitude to our queen. She did more than save my life, and for that I will always be grateful. Nothing can break that bond . . .” I look away, thinking of the Queen’s last words to me.
…I will take her head…
Would I stand by and let Mia be killed? Could I do that? I have given nearly a hundred years to our queen—almost a hundred years of my life to someone else—and I am prepared to give another hundred without question…until the thought of harm coming to Mia. So no, I realise, I will not stand by and let Mia be killed, but there will be a time and a place for that, and I cannot complicate matters between now and then.
I take a step back from her, needing space, needing to think. This is all such a mess. I rub a hand down my face and look back at Mia.
“Perhaps I should explain more fully to you,” I say, and she nods but doesn’t look up at me.
I take her hand and lead her towards my library—well, the Queen’s library, but one she has long since forgotten about, no doubt, since I am the only one in over forty years to enter it. Mia comes, reluctantly being pulled behind me like a spoiled brat, her footsteps dragging along the floor, a huff leaving her every once in a while. The entire time I pull her along with me, even though my head and heart are confused and full of worry and stress I can’t help but smile, a chuckle at her childishness never a breath away from my lips.
We reach the door and I unlock it and pull her inside with me, letting go of her hand only briefly to lock the door behind us before taking it again and leading her toward the chairs we had been sitting in previously. I push her into one and I take the other. And now we are face to face, and I must tell her my story.
“I am going to talk, woman, and you are going to listen. I will tell you why I am forever indebted to her, and then perhaps you will have a better understanding of everything—of me. Perhaps then you will know that no matter how much I,” her features perk up as I speak, “care for you, I will not break my vow. Perhaps then you will not think so little of me. I do not want you to interrupt and ask questions. Just listen. Do you understand, Mia?” I try to soften my features so I don’t seem as cruel, but it’s hard, because the truth is I have never told this story to
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