Page 33 of Princess Avenged

“Selina and I don’t have secrets,” I say sharply, annoyed that he clearly doesn’t want to speak in front of her. Although, at the moment, I have kept so many things from my sestra.

Blade and Flame glance toward each other, and their silent exchange reminds me of one of the reasons I thought I was falling in love with them. Their bond, their solid dedication to each other is admirable and beyond attractive, and I realize that in many ways it mirrors what I found in Selina. She lacked family too and helped me heal the hole left when my birth sisters and brother were killed.

Flame and Blade’s bond is one of the reasons I connected to and admire these men, but I was foolish to imagine their feelings for me could ever compare to what they feel for each other.

Selina steps forward. “Can Ana and I chat alone?”

“Of course.” Flame claps Blade on the back. “We’ll be down the hall. Ears closed.” Winking at me, he twists his fingers beside his ears, mimicking locks.

I nod, shocked that I believe him. No unnecessary eavesdropping is part of their stupid code.

“We’ll be back soon.” Blade looks at me, and his silver eyes fill with so much longing that I nearly melt again, nearly dive into his arms, but the pair vanish in a flash, landing somewhere, out of sight, down the long hallway.

“What did you want to talk about?” I ask Selina.

“Why don’t you want to hear them out?” she asks.

“Because they’re liars.” I fold my arms over my chest.

“They seem pretty sincere to me.” She runs her hand over my shoulder. “But you know them better. Were they lying right now?”

I shake my head. “Not lying. Just holding something back.” But it’s something they want to tell me. I can’t fault them for not wanting to do it out in the open where anyone in the palace might overhear.

Selina puts her hand on my folded forearms. “Ana, you are a good trust of character. If they lie to you, you’ll know.”

Relaxing somewhat, I drop my arms to my sides. My guts squirm with nerves. Part of my reluctance to hear them out is fear that I’ll fall into their arms, and doing that will make our separation even harder. Being angry with the men was a great way to make a clean break.

Unable to meet Selina’s probing gaze, I glance down the hall. She knows me better than I’m willing to admit, and if I look into her eyes, I’ll run out of excuses to avoid facing the men, no matter how hurt I am by their lies.

“But you invited me for dinner…” I say weakly.

Selina squeezes my arm, drawing my attention toward her. “I doubt the roast is in the oven yet. You’ve got at least three or four hours. But, of course, you’re welcome to join us any time. Immediately, if that’s what you want.”

My gratitude for my sister expands, and I chew on my bottom lip, trying to decide when no option feels right.

“What did they lie about?” she asks softly. “Help me understand what’s going on. Maybe it will help if you talk about it?”

Selina does know me. Talking almost always helps, and I’ve been holding this in for too long.

Drawing a long breath, I meet her gaze head on. “They killed Timur,” I blurt. “One of them did. But they all knew about it. The whole time I’ve known them they knew, yet none of them told me.”

As my words hit, she blinks. “Why did they kill—?” She shakes her head as if deciding the why isn’t important. “What made them come clean now?”

“They told me after I found out—” I turn away, a lump in my throat blocking the rest of my words.

“Found out what, Ana?” Selina steps into my line of vision, her eyes literal puddles of concern. “Tell me what’s going on.”

My knees crumple.

Selina catches me, and then leads me to a pair of chairs in a small alcove to the side of the hallway. She helps me into a chair, then sits facing me, pulling her chair so close our knees touch. Taking my hands in hers, she waits patiently for me to talk.

“Phil,” I say softly. “I told you about Phil, right?”

She nods, her expression confirming that she remembers not only his name, but my feelings for him. “Honey, what’s wrong? Was he the one who killed Timur?”

I shake my head as despair rises, blocking my ability to think or to speak. And for the first time, I fully believe that Phil’s dead, and the weight of it intensifies.

I can’t move.

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