Page 59 of A Queen and HER Bad Boy
O Skia’s expression remained stubbornly blank, offering no response.
“What will it take to get you to talk?”
“Give me your complete loyalty, and I’ll tear apart every lie they’ve been feeding you since childhood.”
His loyalty? Impossible. Phoenix and the rest of the world already viewed Achilles with deep suspicion. Even if they didn’t? He studied this ruthless man more carefully, seeing the barely contained violence in every line of his powerful body, the way anger had been forged into something harder than steel by years of suffering. If this rage was unleashed, this shadow would find the revenge he’d been plotting for years.
“Ah, now you begin to see the real danger, young wolf! You fear the truth far more than you fear me.”
Everything this revolutionary said was calculated to play Achilles like a fiddle, just as the Myrdons had done, just like his father-in-law had, even Bris. Letting out a sound of pure frustration, Achilles turned away from this fiery instigator and stormed for the unyielding prison door.
O Skia’s next words froze him in place. “Watch your back! You think your father didn’t love a woman the way you love yours? Just like him, you dance too close to the fire that burned him up.”
What did he just say? Achilles spun on his heel, his heart hammering against his ribs as he strode back to face the glaring prisoner. This Shadow was wrong—Achilles had relentlessly chased the truth for years, and he’d unravel these mysteries before Phoenix burst through that door with an army to stop him. “Who killed my father?” he hissed.
“Killed?” O Skia scoffed with genuine amusement. “Who told you he was dead?”
His mother! The man who’d raised him after the supposed tragedy! All the people his father had supposedly betrayed! Was this the real reason Phoenix had forbidden him to question this prisoner? Was O Skia mad, or was he telling a truth that would shatter everything Achilles believed in—maybe both?
“You don’t think he’s—he’s actually dead?” Like a fool, he found himself stammering. Could his father have actually survived those assassination attempts?
“Ah, it seems the young wolf has ears in that thick skull after all.”
More like his brain had exploded.These had to be more desperate lies from a cornered man. Achilles’s lips twisted into a sneer. “If he’s alive, then why haven’t we heard anything from him in all these years?”
O Skia glared. “Nice try! You refuse to give me what I want, and you’ll get nothing from me.”
The two men held each other’s gaze across the dank cell, the weight of the unspoken shadows heavy between them, until the metal door scraped open behind them.
“Have you finished conspiring with our prisoner?” Phoenix’s sarcastic voice cut through the tension like a blade, sharp with barely controlled fury. The chamberlain was done pretending the prince held even an ounce of authority in this place, proving O Skia’s accusation that he was nothing but a powerless puppet.
Achilles brushed past Phoenix without a word, though he glanced back at the Shadow who continued watching him with those burning black eyes, as if he could see straight through to every secret Achilles carried, every doubt that gnawed at him during his darkest hours.
Idiot. He was an idiot for believing this seasoned terrorist for even a moment.
But as he climbed the stone steps back toward the golden palace above, O Skia’s words echoed relentlessly in his mind:“Who told you he was dead?”The question burrowed into his thoughts like a parasite, and no matter how desperately he tried to banish it, the terrible possibility refused to release its grip.
What if everything he’d been told about his father was an elaborate lie? The Myrdons had perpetuated the rumor of hisdeath, used it to make him hate Chises Mnon, all while Bris’s father pretended Peleus never existed. Even his own mother evaded his questions.
The rain still lashed against the windows when he reached the upper levels, and somewhere above, Bris was waiting for him in their suite, probably wondering where he’d disappeared to in the late hours of the night. She needed him to be her anchor, her protector—not a man chasing ghosts and conspiracy theories.
But the seed of doubt had been planted deep, and there was nothing anyone could do about it.
Chapter Eighteen
BrisglancedupwhenAchilles walked into the room and immediately knew something had changed. Buttons from his white dress shirt were undone, and there was something wild in his dark eyes, a dangerous energy that made the air around them feel charged with electricity as he drew closer to her. Whatever that urgent text had led him to hadshaken him to his core, and now it seemed he’d brought the storm inside with him.
Strangely, it was nothing compared to the one raging inside her. “You left your ring behind,” she said, her voice steadier than she felt.
The intensity of his gaze immediately found the ring in her trembling hands.
She raised her hand, not wanting to hear the excuses, the lies that would pour from his mouth that part of her desperately wanted to believe! “You can’t leave the Myrdons alone…” Her fingers traced the tiny ants chiseled into the metal band. “You used it as your wedding ring—that’s… fitting, I guess.”
“Bris.” He took another step closer. “It isn’t what you think.”
“I wanted this to be real!” Did she really admit that out loud? Was her voice really sounding so choked up and strange to her own ears? She must still be in shock.
With difficulty, she met his probing eyes. They were so black, so wary as he watched her carefully, like she was a venomous snake coiled to strike. Well, she supposed she did have bite! She nodded, her throat tight. “You think I’m spoiled… maybe you’re right, but can you do me a favor? Don’t pretend to like me when you don’t.”
