Page 83 of A Kingdom of Destruction

“Sometimes people need to take what they want. Need to be greedy.”

Roran’s eyes darkened, and before she could move, his hand was in her hair, fingers tangling in the dark strands. “Even if someone gets hurt?” His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper, sending shivers down her spine. The tension between them crackled like lightning before a storm.

He leaned closer, his breath ghosting across her cheek. Then suddenly, he jerked away. His hand fell from her hair, leaving her skin tingling where he’d touched her.

“Be careful what you wish for, little princess.” His voice was cold now, controlled. Without another word, he turned and disappeared into the darkness.

It made her angry.

He’d caught her in a vulnerable state, and yet Roran wasn’t willing to give her the same emotional availability. And it made her ridiculous to even believe it was possible from him. To expect it?

She was worse than stupid.

She was a fool.

27

“The people here do not hate you, Aven. They simply don’t know anything about you. They’ve been pumped full of horror stories about the war, and it’s affected their opinions about mortals in general,” Cillian said. “Once they get to know you, then they will care about you as much as I do. It’s guaranteed.”

She palmed the sun-warmed stone in her hand and sent it flying across the surface of the pond. It skidded and bounced three times before falling beneath the water with a final plunk. “I can live with their hatred, Cillian. I highly doubt the hundreds of thousands of people here are all going to get to know me enough to change their minds.”

She reached for another stone on the rocky bed near the edge of the water. Her mind returned again to the night before and the moment between her and Roran.

Why couldn’t she shake him?

Why did it matter?

“Then what’s bothering you?” Cillian stepped to her side, and when he sent his own stone flying, it skidded seven, eight, ninetimes before it dropped. “You’re keeping things from me, and that’s not the right way to start off our relationship.”

“Show-off,” she muttered.

He grinned at her. “I have had years of practice skipping stones. You are a relative newbie when it comes to the skill required.”

She’d never be as good as him with his dexterous hands, but she was determined to try. “It bothers me that they made those comments about my family,” she admitted.

“Because you know what happened with your father.”

“In part.” It hurt her to agree.

“No one expects you to be okay with things right away. It’s a lot to take in, especially after being told one thing your entire life. It’s a brand-new way to look at the world.”

For some reason, it bothered her how accommodating Cillian acted. The perpetual voice of reason. It would be better if he raged. If he yelled at her and told her to snap out of it because things were the way they were and no amount of moping would smooth things over.

Aven raged at herself for her emotions, but nothing changed. It didn’t matter how many dates Cillian took her on.

Today, he’d decided a picnic by the pond would be the perfect thing for them. He’d said nothing when she picked up her first stone and hurled it at the pond. Needing to see the way the water changed with the impact. Needing to know that something changed and she controlled it.

Everything else in her life was far outside of her control.

“Your father might not be a good man, but your past is behind you now.”

“I killed?—”

“In the past. You’re on the path to a new life, and because of your efforts, the war has ended.” Cillian rested his hands on her shoulders and bent to place a kiss on the top of her head.

She still hadn’t given him an official yes to the question of their engagement. They took one day at a time, and for all his efforts to woo her, Cillian never pushed.

Part of her appreciated that about him.

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