Page 93 of Phoenix Falling
“I assume kings do that.” I wanted to tell her I didn’t care, that what he was here didn’t matter in the face of what he’d done to me. But the truth was, I couldn’t stop myself from wanting to know. It was like there were two Suns in my mind: the one who’d made love to me and the one who’d revealed himself since. I could fool myself into thinking the Sun she talked about was the one who’d treated me with compassion, with kindness. In the end I knew the truth, but maybe it was okay to indulge in a little fantasy as long as I kept sight of the fact that that was all it was.
“Being responsible for so many lives wears on someone,” she was saying. “Even before his father died, Sun carried the weight of the Archai on his shoulders. It meant always being fully in control, never giving an inch. Never risking going after what he really wanted, or even thinking about it, really. Everything he was had to be sublimated to the cause.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because he’s a thousand years old, and my mate has walked beside him for every one of those years. He’s older than Sun, and those of his bloodline have always served the council. It was expected.”
A thousand years. My mind couldn’t fathom that length of time.
Imogen tipped her head to one side, studying me. “Demetri says Sun is definitely not constantly in control when it comes to you. Why do you think that is?”
“Because he’s a dickhead?”
She chuckled. “Or becomes one when you are around.”
“That’s what tends to happen when a man’s penis rules instead of his brain, I guess.”
“I don’t think it’s his penis in charge—at least, not completely. I’m sure there’s an element of that, for any man—”
I couldn’t stop a lopsided grin. “Right?”
“Right.” She sobered quickly. “But I think this loss of control is because of what’s going on in his heart, Risk, not his pants.”
“He doesn’t like me saying no to him.”
“Which I’m sure you do every chance you get.”
“You know it. Where would be the fun in saying yes?”
Imogen raised her brows, and I blushed. Sputtered, “You know what I mean.”
“Indeed I do.” Imogen gave me a Mona Lisa smile. “I just have to wonder—here’s a man who has lived by his iron control for hundreds of years. And yet, get the two of you in a room together and boom! All that well-earned control goes up in smoke. There has to be a reason for that.”
My heart set up a thump behind my breastbone. “Like what?”
She stood, stretched, even yawned, forcing me to wait. Finally she winked. “I think you know, but it might take a little while for your stubborn mind to comprehend it. Good night, Risk.”
I watched her move to the bunk beside Raine’s and lie down, all the while considering her words. Anyone who’d ever known me knew I was stubborn. I could admit that much. It didn’t mean I was wrong about Sun. Imogen might know his past, but she hadn’t been there when he’d searched my mind. She hadn’t seen him betray my trust.
The minute Raine was better, I was getting us both out of here. Nothing could change what had happened, not even Sun on his knees groveling. Which would never happen, so why waste time thinking about it? We were from two different worlds, and even if he could accept me—which I knew was impossible—well, I wasn’t certain I could do the same.
Not anymore.
ChapterThirty-Five
SUN
That could have gone better.
What was it about Rissa that drove me beyond any restraint I hoped to have? Granted, I hadn’t expected to see her outside of her cell—which I could now admit she’d been in for my peace of mind more than anything else. If she was in a cell, I knew she’d stay put. I knew I wouldn’t run into her unexpectedly, either, but thanks to Lyris, that assurance had been blown to bits.
And so had my hold on my temper. A thousand years I’d cultivated control, and one dark-haired spitfire could shatter it with a single word. Hell, even a look.
I glared at my desk—my father’s desk. I really needed to fix that. Get my own shit. I hated this desk, his desk. Hated this room, for that matter. Every room I’d been in with my father held bad memories, but his office especially.
So why was I still here?
Why, indeed. I shoved my chair back and headed for the door. Outside it was day, and sunlight spilled through the hall that led to the King’s Garden, leaving much of the throne room in shadow. I beelined for the double doors that would allow me to get away from the memories of his failures and mine.
