Page 105 of Fierce Monarch

He hummed in an almost agreement before pushing me off so he could grab the shampoo and lather up my hair. He worked diligently, making sure he massaged my head and neck until I was near boneless against him, then carefully worked his way down the strands. Tipping my head back, he carefully maneuvered me into the water to rinse it out so he could start all over again with conditioner. While he let that soak in, he went for my body and set his sights on the rest of me.

Every touch was sure, every muscle kneaded and relaxed beneath his hands. At one point, I had to lean against the wall because I was sure my knees would give out. Nothing about it was sexual, just intimate. The type of touch that two people who were each other’s worlds could have. Grey touched me like I was his to protect and serve and worship, and it made everything so much better.

I loved that he could put his hands on me and, without words, give me everything I needed. Sex was wonderful, especially with him, but this was something else.

He had one of my feet balanced against his shoulder as he worked my calf and ankle into puddle-of-goo territory when he finally spoke again. “I think you’re not giving Cameron enough credit. Yes, Joaquin was his father, but he was also blatantly anti-Mari. Cameron’s loyalty has always been to you. He may be upset, but he’ll understand why you did it. Trust him, Mari. Trust yourself.”

“Maybe that’s the problem. I’m not sure I can trust myself.”

“Nate was?—”

“Not the only problem.” It was the truth. Nate was a catalyst to show me something much more glaring was happening. “I’m still as naïve as I was when I took this role.”

“Reina.”

“No, I am. I trust people blindly, and then I get surprised when they stab me in the back. It’s a habit.”

He let go of my feet and twisted so he could rake careful fingers through my hair, getting the worst of the tangles before he took a brush through it. “It’s not a bad thing to trust people, Mari.”

“It is when they’re the wrong people.” He grunted behind me, so I kept going. “I knew Joaquin wasn’t on my side from the beginning. The smart thing to do would’ve been to take him out at the start.”

“That would’ve been suicide.”

He was referring to the fact that my uncles would’ve taken me out for it, but I wasn’t so sure. “I could’ve brought them to heel.”

“Why is this such a problem for you?”

“How much suffering could we have avoided if I’d made the tough decision earlier?” I wasn’t sure Grey would have an answer for me, I wasn’t even sure I wanted one. Asking the question was enough.

“A lot,” he admitted, knowing Joaquin had been a pain in my ass for years. “But that’s not who you are.”

“Maybe it should be.”

“No.” When I said nothing, Grey whipped me around and crowded me into the tile wall. “You are not your father. You are not Cash. You don’t see opposition as a death sentence. It’s what makes you human.”

“I can’t be human and run a criminal empire, Greyson.”

“Says who?” he challenged. “You’ve been doing it for years and doing it well.”

I had no answer for that, but I didn’t feel better.

Grey huffed and leaned into me, shielding me from everything that wasn’t him. His big hand snaked through the hair he’d just painstakingly cleaned, and he wrapped it around the base of my neck, thumb stroking my pulse. “Empathy is your burden, reina. It’s part of what makes you great. Does it mean you give people too many chances? Maybe, but I wouldn’t change you for anything. A queen can be ruthless and still have a conscience.”

I wanted to believe that, but history was proving I constantly made the wrong choices. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, but if you need a reminder, just ask. If you’re not sure you’re making the right decision, lean on Dominic and me for counsel. We won’t tell you what to do, but we can advise you.” With a firm grip, he pulled my head to his chest. “We’re here to help you. Let us do it.”

We stayed there, wrapped in each other, until I felt the last of my resistance slip down the drain. Greyson was right. I’d hated how my father ruled because he had no compassion to temper the fear he wrought. No empathy to fuel the city’s exploits, both underground and not. I didn’t want to be like him or Cash. I wanted to be me.

The tough choices would always be there, but I’d take them every time if it meant I still had my soul.

We got out, dressing quietly next to each other so we didn’t wake Dominic. He needed the rest and I wanted to do this without an entourage, yet I couldn’t help but snatch Grey’s hand as I passed. I held it the entire drive to Seattle General, only letting go when I stepped into my cousin’s hospital room, which he’d apparently forced the staff to put Aislynn in too. It would take a while for him to be comfortable letting her out of his sight.

After she’d made a house call to check Dominic’s and my lungs, Dr. Grant had told us most of Cameron’s burns were second-degree, though some were third. Because of the number he had, and to avoid infection, they’d decided to treat them all as if they were third. He was hooked up to antibiotics and IV drips to help him heal and deal with the pain. The fewer people in the room, the better, but they’d made an exception for me this once, which I was grateful for.

My cousin lay grumpily in the bed, bandages covering the worst of his wounds, letting Ash fuss at him as he tossed barbed words her way. For her part, she seemed content to ignore him, happily plumping pillows or adjusting the blankets every two seconds. She had a somber gratitude hovering around her as she did the same to her husband, and if I hadn’t known she loved him before, I did now.

“You’re okay.” Cameron’s words were hushed with relief, and I forced my face to smile, though his flat lips said it wasn’t a good one.

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