Page 57 of Wedlock
I stare down at our joined hands.
‘Do I? I didn’t think so, but then, that kiss… why can’t I stop thinking about it? And the way he makes me feel every time I’m around him… The fact we share children. The jealousy I feel at the idea of him being with someone else…I don’t know. I definitely still have feelings for him, and Mom always said the closest thing to love is hate. I’m treading a fine line.’
But I can’t tell Jag any of this, because the truth is, even if I don’t love Falcon any longer, I won’t ever love Jag the way he wants.
“Jag…”
“I don’t think you do love him, Angie, but I believe you could learn to lovemeif you gave yourself permission. I know you were under a thrall, but you said it yourself, those nights we spent together were…”
“A mistake. I’m married, Jag,” I pull my hands from his and, frowning, turn away. His words are strangely annoying, and at the same time I realise that makinghimmad might be the best thing for both of us. “And how do you know I don’t love my husband? I did once — I loved him all the time I was sleeping with you.”
“Right up until he tried to put you under his thrall?” He asks quietly. “Or did you still love him when he tried to kill you?”
“Jag, stop.”
“Angie, I know what you’re trying to do. Your heart is soft; it’s what I love about you, but your head isn’t. I didn’t want to haveto tell you this. I don’t want to force your hand or pressure you into declaring false feelings, but Falconisgoing to marry the Princess. Even if he gives his title to your son, he’ll still do away with you to marry her. He has to.”
“What do you mean he has to?”
“The Queen is behind it all.”
“The fuckingQueen?”
“Yes, I don’t know all the details, but Falcon told Eleanor that the Queen put him on The Games to teach him a lesson for jilting Princess Revna. He was supposed to marry a human, get an heir, and then scurry back to her, tail between his legs, and marry into her family.”
“Only, he threw a spanner in the works by eating all the contestants,” I muse.
“Yes, and no one knew he was planning on marrying Sophie. No one except Spider, and he didn’t let on that little fact to the Queen when he suggested putting Falcon into The Games.”
I think this through, biting my lip.
“But Falcon still wouldn’t have gone on the show. So Spider kidnapped Viper as leverage…”
“Yes, another ruse,” Jag nods. “As we know now, Viper and he were working together. He was never kidnapped.”
“But, hang on,” I hold my hand up. “Why put him into The Games a second time?”
“That was royal duty and protocol,” Jag says bitterly, “and Falcon has no one to blame but himself for that. He had to make it right for the human public, for The Games, and to help hold the balance. Of course no one expected your mother-in-law to have her finger in the pie too, and to have you placed in The Games. And no one expected a love match.”
“A love match,” I echo, remembering how I’d felt about Falcon towards the end of The Games. How much I adored everything about him, and how he seemed to think the same about me. Remembering Eleanor’s assertion that he’d confessed he loved me, wouldalwayslove me.
“Which brings us to now,” Jag grunts, returning me to reality with a thud. “You’ve given him his heir, the Princess wants him, and you’re in the way. The Queen isn’t fucking around any longer. The story is out and about that you’re suicidal, and she’s happy enough with that. Revna is chomping at the bit, from what I’ve heard. She met with the Queen after leaving here recently and there was some kind of kerfuffle and craziness — Eleanor’s sources couldn’t say what. The long and short of it is that Falconwillmarry the Princess, sooner rather than later.”
“I already know this,” I reply dully. “Nothing you’ve said comes as any real surprise, apart from the Queen bit. But Jag,” I take both his hands in mine and look earnestly into his eyes, “no matter what happens, I can’t be with you. I’m sorry. I don’t love you like that. I love you like a friend, a brother, not like the way you want.”
“I know,” he sighs. “I’d hoped otherwise. I’ll always hope, but you need protection, and you can’t stay here.”
I nod, my eyes hardening as I consider my options.
“That’s why I came to see Asumpta, I need to get out of here.”
I don’t add ‘and I need to take my baby,’ because it’s clear Jag thinks my son needs to stay to inherit the title. But he doesn’t know me at all if he thinks I’d ever leave my child behind. Still, something makes me hold my tongue about this.
“Asumpta is out of the picture,” he shrugs, “but I’ll help you.”
Bouncing forward I hug him tightly, aware as his familiar arms tighten around me that this hug will mean something completely different to him, but not moving to stop it.
It feels so comforting, so warm, and so safe as I whisper against his chest: “Thank you, Jag.”
