Page 208 of Twisted Royals

“Responsibility? I’m plenty responsible. I’m not the one that ignored the weather warning and went bloody heliskiing!”

My breath whooshes, grief hitting me so hard it takes fifteen seconds before I can draw in air. “I should have been there. I should have protected him.” I look up, my parents’ faces are pale, their stoic masks starting to crack. I shove a hand through my long hair. “It was my job,” I add quietly. “I was dispensable, Rex wasn’t.”

My parents share a look before my father speaks. “It wasn’t your job to save him. You were never spare parts, son.”

“Danon?” My mother touches my shoulder. “We’d both trade our lives for Rex, but we wouldn’t trade yours.” I’m not expecting the emotion in my mother’s voice. My parents always seem so… okay—so aloof. And a small part of me has hated them for it.

“Son, we have never valued Rex more than you. That’s not why we made the choices we did.”

I nod, unable to respond.

“You never trusted people, you angered easily, and you didn’t think twice about using your fists, especially to protect your bother.” My father starts to pace. “Those may have been good qualities for a king in the Victorian era, but not now. Diplomacy is key.”

“Rex was smaller from birth, despite you being twins,” my mother adds. “But he adapted. He made up for it by excelling at communication. That boy was a natural born charmer.” The pride in her voice brings back some bitterness from my teen years but I brush it aside easily because I was proud of Rex too. “Your brother had people eating out of his hand from birth and when he didn’t get his way, he negotiated.”

I nod, knowing the words are true. I don’t know how many times he stopped me from pummeling someone for bullying him, just to turn around and talk his way out of trouble.

“It was the right choice, Danon.”

“It was.” I sigh, cracking the top off my water and guzzling half. “But this isn’t. You made it clear I didn’t belong to this world, and yes, as a young boy that stung, but I grew the hell up. I saw Rex was made for this.” Sitting on one of the wingback chairs, I lean forward letting my hands hang between my knees, the bottle swinging from one of them. “Him being gone doesn’t change that, or me.” I look up. “Find someone else.”

“No. Rex is gone, and you’re next in line. Period. Now enough of this!” My father’s words are clipped and harsh as he walks out of the room, my mother dutifully following after.

Can’t they see I’ll never be what they want, and need? I’d accepted myself years ago, but everything got fucked up when Rex died. Especially me.

I used to at least try to fit in before, but again, once Rex…

I hate the world he left behind because the only thing that made it bearable was him. And he was the only one that told me I was just as worthy to be in it as he was.

That thought brings me to Elle. Would I have felt good enough for her before Rex died? I’d never been interested in anything long term but that’s because hockey was my life and there would always be time later.

Now I’m out of time and the only woman I want wouldn’t be accepted in my world even if I was deserving of her.

CHAPTER 8

Danon

I’m not worthy. It’s the mantra playing on repeat in my head after my fight with my parents. Everything I said was stuff I’ve been working hard to hold back my whole life, but especially these past two years. And I hate that I let it out. I know it makes me sound whiny and difficult, but when it comes to things like becoming King and marrying a woman like Ada, that’s exactly how I feel.

I’ve only ever felt comfortable in my skin on the ice, and right now, knowing I have to leave that life behind, I feel like I’m crawling out of it.

And I do feel bad for the things I said. I hate fighting with my parents even though they drive me crazy. With Rex gone, all we have is each other, and I know deep down they hate it too.

It doesn’t help that I’m still licking my wounds from last night. The memory of Elle with Clark Kent is still playing on repeat in my brain. He’s perfect for her, and though I know I’m leaving soon, and I should step aside and let her find her happiness, I can’t.

There is nothing I can do to combat the worthlessness I feel about the direction of my life, and no way not to compare myself with my brother when I think about going home.

But, for now, I’m still here and maybe I can show Elle that I’m more than just a good time in bed. I can show her I’m more than a demanding jock who bosses her around and knows what she likes in the bedroom.

For one night, I can be the kind of man I was raised to be, and treat her like the princess she is, leaving her with a better memory of me.

If she’ll let me.

She could be snuggled up next to Clark Kent by now, all memories of our nights together forgotten. The thought turns my stomach, and I stumble to the bathroom, purging the toxins I consumed last night.

Hungover? Or lovesick? At this point I’m not sure which. I get in the shower right after brushing the nasty taste from my mouth. It’s there the headache and brain fog start to clear, although the spray on my face hurts like hell.

I formulate a plan as the warm water soothes the aches I didn’t realize I had. It must have been one hell of a fight I’d gotten into.

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