Page 100 of Wickedly Yours

“Don’t go.” He wrapped his arms around me. “Fuck, baby. I’m sorry. I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“You didn’t. Not like that.” Sure, I was sore, and I knewthere would be bruises tomorrow, but what was hurting was myheart because he wouldn’t talk to me. “I can’t do this. I can’t be your wife and have you shut me out. You have totrustme with all of it.”

“I do trust you.”

“With what? I don’t even have anything to do here. Apurpose. I need to dosomething.” Helping him take down his father didn’t count. I would do that happily, but what would be left once it was over?

Zain furrowed his brow. “Youhavea purpose.”

“Do I? Because being with you can’t be my purpose. Having your child can’t be my purpose. There has to be somethingmore.”A deep sigh heaved from my lungs. “In Pleasant Grove, I had the bakery, and it fulfilled me. Gave me a reason to get up each morning. Seeing people’s faces light up when they ate things I made brought me joy. A reason for being. Here, I’m just…”

What? What was I?I’d told him when I agreed to all of this that I didn’t want to be trapped, but I couldn’t help but feel that way, anyway.

“Luna.” His voice was soft as he cupped my cheeks, forcing my eyes to meet his. “You can do whatever you’d like.”

“Can I?” I raised an eyebrow. “Because the bodyguards following me around wherever I go seem to point to the opposite.Why are you so afraid of him, Zain? You said we could end it. Together. That we could do this.” He said nothing, looking away. “Why are you hesitating?”

“It’s complicated.” He pinched between his brows. “I just…”

“Okay.” I sighed. “You know where to find me when you need me.” My heart hurt as I walked away from him.

As I curled into my cold sheets, unable to remember whenthe last time I slept in them was. They didn’t smell like him, that musky scent that soothed my frayed nerves.

I let the tears fall, not caring if anyone heard me cry.

Because he was here, and he was still breaking my heart.

TWENTY-NINE

luna

Aweek passed without mention of Zain’s father or what we were going to do about it. Zain had been attentive and yet distant, always checking in to see if I needed anything, but his head seemed like it was a million miles away.

Even when I spent the night in his arms, it felt like there was a wall between us that had never been there before.

“Luna?” Zain called, his voice groggy from sleep.

I wiped away a bit of flour that clung to my cheek as he padded into the kitchen. Humming at him in response, I kept mixing my dough.

“What are you doing?” He asked, watching me work.

“I couldn’t sleep.”

So I’d come down to the kitchen to make a batch of cookies to calm my racing mind. There was a book open on the counter I’d stolen from the library, too. Not that I was doing much reading. I hadn’t been able to focus on the page all morning.

A yawn freed itself from my lips. I’d been feeling extra tired lately. Maybe it was from the dreams that kept me up at night. The visions all involved his father and the crown. Something bad was coming, and I was completely at a loss for what it was.

Zain wrapped his arms around me, clearly not caring about my mess. “Come back to bed, wife,” he murmured in my ear.

“Hmm?”

He frowned, curling a finger around my ear to push a strand of hair back. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” I shook my head, forcing a smile onto my face. “Everything’s fine. But… has something happened?” My voice was subdued. Quiet.

Because if that future came to pass, this entire realm would be bathed in blood.

“Nothing you have to worry about,” he insisted.

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