Page 39 of Tarnished Embers

“Hi,” I say back, Cas setting me down in the empty chair between them, but I get back up, climbing into Prince’s lap instead. “You look tired, Prince.” I cup his cheek, the rough stubble that has grown there over the past few days tickling my palm. “Though I like the new look.”

He grins at me, dipping his head until his mouth is next to my ear. “I bet it would feel good between those gorgeous thighs of yours.” My breath hitches, my core heating at his words, even as a pulse of soreness makes me wiggle in his lap. “Those boys made you sore this morning after yesterday, huh?”

He shoots the twins a scowl, and I pull his gaze back to me, kissing him softly on the lips.

“I wanted them to, Prince,” I tell him, and he studies my face, giving me a nod when he can see that I’m telling the truth. My stomach growls again, loud enough for them all the hear, and chuckles ring out across the room.

“Let’s get you something to eat, Sugar.”

After breakfast, which consisted of a delicious ham, cheese, and veggie omelette and some kind of protein shake that Cas had organised, I sit back in Prince’s lap, full and still ignoring the empty chair at the top of the table.

“We don’t have classes today, do we?” I ask, not sure I’d be able to face that yet, and Prince pulls me closer to him. I inhale his scent of rum and leather, loving the way they each smell different but all of them calming me, nonetheless.

“No, Sugar, but…” he trails off, and suddenly my calm evaporates like steam from a kettle.

“But what?” My heart pounds inside my chest, my fingers clenching and unclenching as I wait to hear what he says.

He sighs, his chest moving up and down against me. “Odette returns today, and I’m sure she’ll want to talk about funeral arrangements—”

Before he can finish his sentence, the sound of the front door opening and closing reaches us. Wide-eyed, I clutch at Prince’s arms around me, trying to sink back into him as her heels tap a quick beat on the marble floor, getting louder as she clearly heads towards us.

My heart seems to beat in time with her fast pace, and I don’t realise that I’m panting shallow breaths until Prince whispers, “Breathe, Sugar.” It’s firm enough that my body obeys and helps calm my racing heart a little.

The door to the dining room is thrown open, and I flinch when she stares straight at me, looking…perfect.

I don’t know what I expected; her dressed in black maybe, or perhaps even dark circles under her eyes. Instead, she’s wearing a peach pantsuit, her makeup flawless, hair falling around her shoulders in beautiful waves, and she’s positively fucking glowing.

Part of me feels like I should move off Prince, that even though Odette knows about the relationship I share with the guys, I should maybe hide it from her like before. But I just don’t have the energy to move, to deny the comfort that Prince is giving me right now.

“Oh, Ember, honey,” she says, her face creasing a little, but I distrust the expression, my eyes narrowing as I continue to stare at her. “I’m so sorry.”

There’s not even a stammered word or a hiccup. Nothing to show the sadness of a wife who has just lost her husband.

“Are you not sad?” The words slip past my lips before I can stop them, and I feel Prince stiffen underneath me, but my focus is all on Odette, my stepmother. Ex-stepmother now I suppose.

A flash of annoyance crosses her stunning features, her lips tightening into a flat line before she schools her face into the picture of confusion.

“Why would you say such a thing to me?” she asks, her tone wounded, but my brows draw closer, trying to work out if she’s sincere or not.

“You don’t look sad,” I tell her honestly, and her mouth opens and closes like a fish. I have the sudden urge to laugh and have to bite my lips in order to hold the sound in. Nothing about this is funny, and I worry if I let the laughter fall, it will quickly turn into sobs.

“What are you talking about?” She storms around the table, and my heart beats faster at the rage in her eyes. “I just lost my husband, you vile child, how dare you say I’m not sad. I’m devastated!”

I see the guys flinch at her angry tone, and my pulse rushes in my ears, but I still can’t quite believe what she’s trying to sell. There’s something…fake about it all, like she’s going through the motions because that’s what is expected of her.

“You don’t look devasta—” My head whips to the side before the word has left my mouth, and I blink, my sight wobbling as pain flares in my cheek.

Prince has pulled me closer, angling my body away, and I turn my head back around to see Odette being held by Cas, his eyes full of copper fire as he looks at my cheek.

My tongue darts out and copper fills my mouth, and when I swipe my hand across my lip, a smear of blood decorates my skin.

“You touch her again, Odette, and I will not be held responsible for my actions,” Cas growls out, and she spins in his arms, burying her face into his chest and sobbing loudly. He holds his hands away, then awkwardly embraces her, his jaw clenching, his head held up and away like he’d rather be anywhere else.

My chest burns, and I clench my teeth at them. I fucking loathe seeing her in his arms, arms that belong to me. I don’t care that she’s his stepmother, something inside me roars at the way she curves into him.

“Easy, Sugar,” Prince says, his heart beating so fast that it pulses into my back. “Let’s just all calm down.”

“She. Fucking. Slapped. Me.” I can barely get the words out, my hands clenching grabbing onto his forearms as I pull against his hold, my body trying to get to her to rip her off my man. I struggle to contain the rage I feel towards this woman, my vision washing in shades of red. I know that it’s not fully justified, that perhaps some part of me blames her for my father’s death simply because she was there and I wasn’t.

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