Page 85 of Thrones We Steal

“How did I break my promise?” His tone has turned incredulous.

“By not staying away from her! You know Bea. She thinks any attention you give her means you feel the same way.”

“Fine. I’ll quit texting her. Happy?”

“Not by a long shot,” I snap and turn toward the window.

Back home, I march up the staircase and down the hallway to my suite, hoping to make it inside before he comes up behind me, but he’s faster than me. He grabs my arm before I can open the door and slip inside.

“Let go of me,” I say and try to yank it out of his grasp.

“Not until you assure me you won’t do something reckless like that again.”

“Like what?” I finally manage to free my arm. I rub it where his fingers branded my skin like a red hot iron.

In the light for the first time tonight, I notice his face. He looks upset, tired, and stressed—a lethal cocktail. “You know what. Wandering in the forest with him.”

“Define wander.”

“Celia,” he growls. The power of driving him to the edge is intoxicating.

“Well?” I raise my eyebrows. “I’m just trying to understand what you mean.”

“No, you’re trying to exasperate me.” He comes even closer, so close I get a whiff of that scent I’d sell my soul for and have come to think of as simply Henry. He props his arm against the wall above my head and leans in until I can feel the heat radiating off of him. A few more inches and we’ll be touching—a thought that is sure to cause respiratory failure if dwelt on too long.

“Is it working?” I ask, dropping my voice to a whisper. I swallow hard at the look on his face.

His gaze doesn’t leave my eyes, and yet somehow I feel it down to my toes, his eyes orbs of inky darkness. His Adam’s apple bobs as he swallows. “You have no idea,” he finally says, “how badly I want to—”

“Strangle me? Carve me like a pumpkin? Use me for target practice?”

“God, Celia.” He closes his eyes briefly. “Do you have to be so morbid?”

I pull myself up to my full height, thinking it will cause him to take a step back. It doesn’t. It only brings our faces closer. “Why do you care what I do with Beck? You’ve made it very clear where the two of us stand.”

“I don’t care. But since we’re on the subject, I never thought he was good enough for you.”

A big mirthless laugh breaks out of my chest. It sounds like a cackling old witch. “Not good enough? He’s a better person than you by a long shot.”

“Probably, but I still think you deserve better.”

“I’ll be the judge of that, thank you.”

He rubs a hand over his face, pulling down the skin around his eyes. “We both know your judgment skills have been a little lacking of late.”

“Excuse me? You know,” I say and wag a finger, “I think I’m just a toy to you. You don’t want me, but no one else can have me either. That’s it, isn’t it?”

He pushes off from the wall. “Of course not. I just want you to be happy.”

If it wasn’t so ridiculous, it might actually be funny. “Happy? Really? That didn’t seem to cross your mind the night you threw me out of your room.”

He runs his fingers through his hair. “Within reason, C.” He says it softly, like a caress, the same way he called me baby that night. Baby, are you sure?

I fight to still my trembling jaw. He will not break me again. “And if I told you Beck makes me happy?”

“Does he?”

“Of course,” I say. “I’ve never been more blissfully happy.”

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