Page 115 of Clash of Kingdoms

“Harlow…”

She left the bed.

“Baby.”

She grabbed her clothes off the floor and prepared to storm off.

I got out of bed. “When we spoke about this before, you understood?—”

“Things are different now.” She pulled on her bra and then her top, moving as quickly as she could, as if she couldn’t get away from me fast enough.

“How are they different?”

She shoved her legs through the pant legs of her trousers and tugged them to her waist. “You killed your father to protect mine. How can you do that and then sail away, never to return?” Tears spilled down her cheeks. “How can you risk everything for me? And then leave?”

“My affection for your father is independent of my love for you.”

She looked away and started to march out.

I put my hand on the door so she couldn’t escape. “Harlow.”

She tried to tug it open against my weight.

“I leave in a day, and I don’t want to spend our time left fighting?—”

“You don’t have to leave at all.” She rounded on me, pained and furious. “Why am I not worth it? If you’d died in battle, you would have lost your life and your soul. But this is too much to ask…”

I took a deep breath. “I wouldn’t be the same, Harlow.”

Her eyes narrowed.

“I wouldn’t be as strong as I am now. I wouldn’t be able to protect you the way I have. I wouldn’t have been able to save your father’s life because I would have been too weak to do so. I wouldn’t be the same.”

“My father is a human, and he fought those demons alongside you just fine.”

“It was a million times harder for him than it was for me?—”

“Then get better. Get stronger. Fight harder.” Now she yelled. “You’ve fought for me this whole time, so fight for me now!”

“You don’t understand?—”

She marched out of the cottage.

I was still buck naked, so I couldn’t follow her.

But I probably shouldn’t go after her anyway.

I had no idea where Harlow went.

She wasn’t in her bedchambers in the castle or the great room. I asked my brothers if they’d seen her, and they hadn’t. She wasn’t at the front of the castle either, nor with the dragons in the field.

This time, she didn’t want me to find her.

I sat in the great room and assumed she would return to her bedchambers at dark because she’d rather sleep alone than sleep with me. There was a bottle of scotch already sitting there, so I helped myself, knowing the last time I had been this low was when Renee died. Or I’d killed her…was what I should say.

Footsteps sounded, but they were too heavy to belong to Harlow. A moment later, Huntley emerged, dressed casually in brown trousers and a black shirt. The bruises were still visible on his face from where my father had tortured him, but the light in his eyes showed nothing but peace.

He took a quick look at me and recognized my sorrow. He pulled out the chair across from me and helped himself to a glass. He took a drink then licked his lips before he relaxed in the chair, looking at me and giving me the opportunity to choose the conversation.

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