Page 60 of A Queen and HER Bad Boy
His silence stretched between them like a chasm. Did that mean she’d caught him red-handed? She pulled away from the dresser, pushing off the bed in one fluid motion, trying to pretend she wasn’t walking over the shards of her shattered heart. The pieces lay scattered across the floor because it certainly wasn’t in her chest anymore. No, that felt hollow, emptied of everything she’d foolishly hoped for. So how was this carpet so soft? Nothing felt real anymore.
“Is this why you punish yourself all the time?” she asked. “Why you refuse to be a true husband to me—because you feel guilty for using me? What were you planning to do anyway?”
Thunder shook the entire room, rattling the tall windows. Appropriate timing, though it only emphasized the deafening silence coming from Achilles. He didn’t like getting caught, was that it? She’d give anything for some kind of reaction from him. Anything!
Well, she’d get one from him! Her temper snapped like a live wire and she dropped the ring into his palm. “Well, you chose what you love.”
She meant to spin away, but his strong fingers folded over the ring and caught her hand at the same time. The gentle strength behind his touch sent a jolt of electricity through her—feelings she wasn’t prepared for. There wasn’t anything he needed but those dark eyes to hold her captive, and she was rooted to the spot, completely mesmerized by the smoldering intensity that set her blood on fire.
“Don’t be so sure who I’ve sworn my loyalty to,” he said, his voice rough with emotion.
He reeled her closer, and she stiffened, her pulse racing. What was he doing? Her every sense tingled as she drew nearer to the heat radiating from his body. Achilles was a magnet, and she’d always been drawn to him like she was drawn to danger! That’s all this was, right?
“I don’t care about the Myrdons,” he said, and she could barely believe what he was claiming. The man she knew never backed down from a fight… but now he was yielding to her angry accusations. “I don’t care about your father, or these politics. It’s you, Bris; I care about you.”
Her lips parted in astonishment. It sounded like a practiced line—but it didn’t feel like one. The raw sincerity in his voice made her heart want to believe despite everything. “Then why do you have that ring? Don’t gaslight me! I want the truth.”
He intertwined his fingers with hers before pressing the offensive ring back into her palm. “My mother came to mebefore we made our vows. She told me that if we ever needed her help, to find her heart and seek the cross.”
Bris studied the gold cross set above the rubies more carefully now. Her whole being rebelled at the idea of turning to the Myrdons for anything. Her world might be turning upside down, but not that much. “I won’t work with Atreus Mnon!” she said desperately.
“Never… I’d never ask you to! But something strange is happening,” he said, his voice dropping to barely above a whisper, “something beyond our control.”
Echoing sirens wailed in the distance, their unfamiliar pitch cutting through the Tirrojan night, punctuating the gravity of his words.
“I don’t trust anyone anymore. Phoenix is acting strange, and there’s a prisoner here… he’s the leader of the revolutionaries in Aeaea. They call him O Skia—the shadow.”
The sirens grew steadily louder, cutting through the noise of thunder. Urgent voices crackled over loudspeakers, speaking rapid Tirrojan. “Emergency! Emergency!”
Achilles cursed low under his breath and pulled her with him toward the balcony doors. The manicured garden had transformed into a raging river far below them. The ancient aqueduct had finally given way in several places, and muddy water was rushing down the hillside like a brown, debris-filled tsunami, feeding the swollen canal below. Under the pale moonlight, she could see the village on the other side—their colorful ramshackle homes that had seemed so cheerful in daylight now looked terrifyingly fragile. A cobbled retaining wall was their only protection, but it wouldn’t be strong enough to hold back these torrents much longer. It was only a matter of time before the barrier burst and swept away everything in a vicious flood.
She gasped. Her eyes went from the chaotic scene of destruction to Achilles, who was just as much a wild force of nature, especially now as he watched the scene, his features hardening with resolve. He squeezed her hand tightly. She wasn’t sure what to make of his claims about his ring, but their people needed them to act as a unified team.
Thunderous knocking echoed through their suite, followed by panicked voices in the hallway. Bris pulled her silk robe tighter around herself, the silky emerald fabric of her PJs suddenly feeling ridiculously inadequate against the magnitude of this flood coming for their town. Achilles rushed to wrench open the heavy oak door.
Stepping closer to the noise, she saw chaos reigned out in the halls—palace staff and servants running in every direction, their usual composed efficiency replaced by raw panic. Some clutched hastily thrown-on robes, others still wore their formal uniforms from the evening’s duties, all of them shouting out in fear and confusion.
Polly burst through the door in bright yellow galoshes that squelched with each frantic step. “The children!” She was hysterical, could barely get the words out through her sobs. Her usually perfect dark curls dripped with rainwater; her white cotton nightgown soaked through and clinging to her trembling frame. “I can’t get ahold of Maggie! The school is right in the path of the flood!”
Bris felt her heart plummet as she wrapped her arms around Polly’s shaking shoulders. “We’ll get them out!” Time was of the essence—every second they delayed meant the water rose higher.
“We can organize rescue teams,” Achilles said, his assessing gaze sweeping over the scattered servants. They needed leadership, someone to coordinate disaster relief efforts. He started barking orders, directing the chaos into action.
Peder pushed forward through the crowd, his usual cheerful face grim. “What can I do?” He was still in his gray uniform despite the late hour.
“Find Phoenix,” Achilles commanded, his voice turning sharp and clipped. The words seemed to physically pain him—she understood the sentiment completely.
“I can’t find him anywhere,” Peder revealed.
Achille’s shoulders went rigid. “Then we do this ourselves. The retaining wall—can we reinforce it? Buy these people time to evacuate?”
Peder nodded, though his expression revealed a twinge of apprehension. “Yes, but it will be dangerous.”
“I’m coming with you.” Achilles’s tone brooked no argument.
He wasn’t going alone! Those ramshackle buildings! The makeshift school! Her mind raced to the children sleeping inside. What if they couldn’t escape their homes in time? Their beautiful little country was floating away in a churning mass of mud, debris, and broken dreams. They had to act now.
Polly was already pulling away from Bris, her eyes watering. “Sophia!” she gasped. “Sophia’s sister lives in the village with her three little ones—she’ll be beside herself!”
