Page 56 of Inked Athena

“I’ve endured your abuse patiently for thirty-three years to make sure I didn’t damage your fragile ego, but I will not sit for another second and hear any of it hurled at Nova.”

I know I’m showing my hand here, but I can’t stop myself. This needs to be said.

I won’t stand idly by while he aims his fangs for her throat.

“Do you know how easily I could take it all away from you,boy?” Leonid hisses. He snaps his fingers. “Like that. One word from me and your title, your position, everything you wrongly think isyours—gone.”

“Ah, we’ve come to my favorite portion of the night: the inevitable dance where you put me in my place.” I lean forward. “You know what, Father? I’m tired of all these games. Go ahead and fucking do it already.”

Leonid’s eyes go wide.

I bare my teeth in a smile. “You want to kick me off the cliff and hand the reins over to Ilya? Fine. Go right ahead. See how that works out for you. I’ll just retire to my ‘backwater hideout’ and enjoy the implosion from the sidelines.”

He freezes in his chair, all color draining from his face. For the first time in my life, I’ve left him speechless. Because I finally called his bluff.

“This meeting is over.” His voice comes out rough, unsteady. “Get out of my sight and get to work proving to me that you’re worthy of my legacy.”

As I push away from the table, his eyes track me—a predator suddenly realizing his teeth aren’t as sharp as he thought. The sight should fill me with victory, but I’m not naive enough to think I’ve won.

A cornered man is a desperate one.

And Leonid has walls closing in on all sides.

I stride out into London’s perpetual gloom, already pulling out my phone to change my travel arrangements. I’d planned to stayanother five days, work through the mountain of meetings Myles arranged.

Fuck that.

All I can think about is Nova. The gentle curve of her belly. The way her eyes light up when she sees me. The quiet strength that makes her so different from the women in my father’s world.

I need to breathe her in, hold her close, make sure she and my child are safe. Everything else—the empire, the rivals, my father’s games—can wait.

It’s time to go back to Scotland.

It’s time to go back to the only thing that matters anymore.

It’s time to go back to my family.

21

NOVA

There are things I won’t do for love. I make a list of them while pulling weeds from between the castle’s stones:

I won’t forgive him for disappearing.

I won’t let him touch me.

I won’t think about the new scar I glimpsed in the grainy photos Myles reluctantly showed me last week.

I won’t wonder who gave it to him.

I won’t imagine him bleeding.

The problem is, my body’s a traitor. It’s been another three weeks of solitude, and my hormones are staging a coup. Every night I wake up aching, sheets twisted around my legs, his name hot on my lips.

“Nova.” Myles’s shadow falls across the garden bed. “He’s here.”

I focus on the pea vine tangled in my fingers. If I look up, he’ll see the hope warring with fury in my eyes. “Good for him.”

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