Page 11 of His Bride

“I aim to please. If you need any more sunshine, I’ve got a whole storm cloud of it ready to go.”

Nicoli stares at me. It’s one of those stares where you’re not sure if he’s telepathically ripping your head off or feeling you up.

So I just smoke and wait for lecture number three-billion-and-nine to start so we can get it over with.

“The world needs to think he’s fine, Caelian. If word spreads about Alexius’s condition, our enemies will see it as a hole in our armor. They’ll come for us. And while I say bring on a good fight, there are kids, wives.Mywife. Got it? We don’t put them in danger. And that’sexactlywhat will happen if they find out.”

“You’re saying it like I don’t know all this.”

“Do you, Caelian? Because if you did, you wouldn’t be going around picking fights with everyone.”

“I didn’t pick a fight with you.”

“Yet.”

“Listen,” I start, “I’m well aware that Aurelio the Great Fucker wants a piece of our pie, and that this is no longer just about Giana.”

“Exactly. That’s why only the most trusted guards are on watch, and we’re relying on tech. That’s why staff is bare-bones and our most loyal are the ones we keep close. That’s it. To everyone else,we’re all fucking peachy apart from losing our mother. But we can’t milk that for too long.”

I rub a hand over my face. Milk it. Sounds so callous, even if Mom would be the first to tell us to do that.

Nicoli moves to the edge of our seat. “We need to keep this family safe while Alexius isn’t here. And we can only do that if we’re a united front. The last thing we need right now is civil unrest in this goddamn house. You need to trust that Leandra is doing what she feels is right for our brother, and you need to get your head out of your ass and fix things with Giana because we’re going to need her to play her part in all this.”

Discomfort settles as I brush my fingers along my chin. “It’s not that easy,” is all I say.

Nicoli sits back again. I’ve known my twin brothers all my life. To others, they look exactly alike—dark hair, panty-melting blue eyes, jawlines like sharp-edged scalpels. But to me there’s a clear distinction between the two, and I can easily tell them apart.

Yet, right now, the way he stares at me, it’s like he’s channeling Alexius, telling me to pull my shit together without telling me to pull my shit together.

“You need to stop feeling guilty, Caelian.”

There’s that tightness in my chest again, that uncomfortable twist of my insides whenever someone touches the nerve just to the left of the giant black hole of guilt. “Are you saying you don’t blame me?”

“I’m saying I understand. I get it. You love her.”

“I don’t lo?—”

“Yeah, you do. That’s why you didn’t give a shit about what Alexius or I said that day. All you cared about was her, keeping her safe.” He pins me with his gaze. “Not losing her.”

“I was reckless,” I mutter as I lean forward, placing my elbows on my knees.

“Because you were scared shitless. I know that feeling. I know how helpless you feel when you’re faced with the prospect of losing that one person you love so much, it consumes you. It’s a cold goddamn slice of terror that paralyzes you.”

I don’t respond, pulling my lips in a straight line, my insides pulled taut.

“I’ve lived through it twice. First when Mira was taken from me, and then when we thought she might lose the baby.” He shifts, sniffs, and pulls a palm down his face. Just talking about it affects him badly. “So, I understand, Caelian. And I don’t blame you. And I know for a fact that Alexius won’t blame you either because love makes us all do stupid shit at the wrong time, man.”

I rub my palms together. “Leandra, she blames me.”

“Leandra is hurting. Right now, she’s the one paralyzed to death with the fear of losing her husband. And if she needs you to be the villain while she tries to get through this, then you be that fucking villain because that’s. What. We. Do. We’re there for each other in whichever way we need to be.”

It cuts deep. It resonates inside my soul. And by God, it eases the self-reproach that’s been festering for weeks. “You’re right,” I murmur.

“Say what?” His eyes go wide as he enters jerk mode. “I’m what, now?”

“Don’t ruin it, jackass.”

Nicoli smirks, and there’s this lukewarm, fizzy feeling of comradery I’m afraid might turn me into a hugger.

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