Page 22 of The Royal Flame
“I’m sorry,” I sputter as I jerk back.
He struggles to breathe evenly, his eyes glazed over, his lips parted and swollen. “What?” He blinks at me, utterly lost.
“Your side. You winced when I touched it,” I explain, leaning over as I lift the hem of his shirt. “How bad is it?”
“Not bad at all.” He hitches a finger underneath my chin and angles my head back to him. “It’s more painful when you stop kissing me.”
“River,” I start to reprimand him for being irrational.
“Maddy,” he retorts. “Do you have any idea how much… How much I want you?” His cheeks flush with the slightest tinge of pink.
It’s part of why I like him so much: his occasional shyness and uncertainty. It makes him feel less royal and more real.
“Yeah, well, I want you too,” I admit aloud. It shocks us both and I’ll admit, if I wasn’t so worn out, I may not have done it so easily. But after everything that’s happened, and with all the uncertainty in my future, I’m too exhausted to care. Perhaps tomorrow that’ll change, but at this moment, that’s all I want to say. Well, that and… “So, I guess we should take a shower and start figuring out how we’re going to handle you and I dating, because I’m not letting us go. I’ve given up a lot, River Averson, but I refuse to do that with you. And besides, you’ve already proven multiple times that you can protect me, even when I tell you not to.” I arch a brow at him. “Like tonight.”
“There was no way I was going to leave you behind.” He cups the side of my neck and sketches his finger along my racing pulse. “I’ve spent my entire life doing what I’m told, and it’s made me want to break every rule that’s ever been put on me. That includes your rule of not protecting you.” An unsteady breath falters from his lips. “I’ve never wanted to protect anyone so badly in my entire life as I do you, so whatever you decide—however this turns out—I’ll always protect you,” he vows.
It's the first time anyone has said this to me.
My initial reaction is not to believe him. But the truth sears in his voice and burns in his eyes. River will do anything to protect me, even if we’re not together.
And it’s terrifying, but not in an awful way. It’s more confusing. Because it makes me want to run.
But it also makes me want to kiss him until all he can feel is the imprint of my lips.
It makes me so conflicted I have no clue what to do.
Follow my feelings and continue dating him? For reals this time.
Or protect myself and end it before it becomes real?
The latter is what old Maddy would do, but I’m not even sure who that is anymore.
How could I when my life has been nothing but a lie?
6
MADDISON
River and I part ways to take showers. I use the bathroom connected to the guestroom I’m staying in. The space is absurdly spacious with porcelain sinks, marble floors, granite countertops, and the most enormous shower and tub I’ve ever seen. The water is blissfully warm, and the soap I scrub my body with makes me feel as if I’m standing in the middle of a forest with rain pouring down on me. I spend a while washing the mud off me and scrubbing out the stank of north side from my hair. As I do, my mind wanders to all sorts of things—River, Ellie, Grey, the fact that the blood pumping through my veins puts me at risk of getting killed. I’ve always assumed if I was murdered, it’d be by some creep while I was walking home from work. Being in danger is nothing new to me but not knowing exactly what’s after me has me on edge.
By the time I finish showering, all the restlessness has me worked up. I need to figure out a way to get answers, and I need help with that, as much as I loathe that I do.
Once I’m dried off, I get dressed in the pajamas River gave me—a pair of silk pajama shorts and a tank top that belongs to Lily. The fabric is softer than any other that’s touched my skinbefore, and it makes me want to curl up and fall asleep. But that also might be because of my mental and emotional exhaustion.
I’ve yawned at least a dozen times and am yawning when I answer the door after someone knocks. Standing on the other side is Lily.
“Hey,” I greet her, noting she’s washed the smeared makeup off her face.
Her blonde hair is damp, she’s wearing a pajama set with hearts on the fabric, and her eyes are still puffy from crying.
“Hey… can I talk to you for a minute?” she asks tentatively.
“Of course.” I open the door to let her in and then close it behind me.
She wanders over to the bed, sits down on it, and stares at the floor without uttering a word.
I take a seat beside her. “I’d ask if you’re okay, but after what happened, I know there’s no way you are.”
