Page 85 of The Stolen Princess
Her sad blue eyes peered up at him. “What do you want?”
“I…” He hadn’t prepared anything to say, and the unexpected skin-touch had him flustered. “I—”
She shrugged—a defeated movement that tore at Drake’s heart—then she walked away.
He shouldn’t go after her.
But somehow he knew he would.
Myka
It was time to facethe truth about her father and his weapons. What more proof did Myka need? He had admitted in the letter to having them. The truth almost sounded familiar, like she had heard it every day since she was a little girl—if only she hadn’t refused to listen. She couldn’t even ask her father about the weapons or why he had done it. She couldn’t ask him why he was abandoning her. She couldn’t confront him about all the times he had lied to her over the years. His betrayal made a mockery of their life together.
She entered the shack and sank down onto the floor, leaning her back against Drake’s cot. She hugged her knees to her chest and dropped her head as she sorted through the dangerous words that her mind assaulted her with—words that made her feel worthless.
Unloved.
Betrayed.
Abandoned.
Naive.
Unwanted.
Foolish.
Gullible.
All of these years, Myka had thought that she was strong, but her strength was built on a weak foundation built out of lies, a foundation that was crumbling to the ground. She had nothing left to hope for, no future that made sense, and no one left to love her.
The door opened, and Myka raised her head. Drake stood there, his clothes damp from the rain. She should probably feel embarrassed about the tears rolling down her cheeks, or her swollen eyes, or the fact that she was all alone in this world, and he knew it.
He had been right all along.
She sniffed back her emotions, trying to find whatever fragile strength she had left. “If you came to say I told you so, I don’t want to hear it.” Her voice was shaky and unsure.
Drake shook his head, the movement so subtle Myka almost missed it. “I came to see if you were okay.”
Her nose tingled as a fresh wave of emotion grew inside of her. She bit her lip and shook her head. “I’m not okay,” she whispered as her resolve collapsed. Her head dropped into her hands as a sob racked through her.
In an instant, Drake was at her side on the floor. He scooped her into his arms, cradling her head against his chest. Myka’s entire body shook as the levee holding back her emotions broke. Her sobs came fast and free. Drake gently stroked her hair and her arms, not saying anything, just holding her. She buried her face into his neck, giving him a glimpse of her complete grief.
Drake
Drake glanced downat Myka. She sat in his lap with her head pressed against his chest. His arms wrapped around her shoulder and waist, and her body shook from her cries, prompting him to sweep back stray pieces of her hair from her cheek. He wanted to comfort her, to hold her tight so that she wasn’t alone. This was the hardest kind of heartbreak—the heartbreak that came from the actions of someone else. Myka was innocent, experiencing pain because of her father’s choices. Her entire world had just blown up in her face. Drake wished he could spare her this pain, but he couldn’t. She had to learn the truth about her father one way or another.
He dipped his chin down. She seemed so small in his arms, and a wave of her lilac fragrance drifted toward him. Drake closed his eyes, breathing it in. Holding Myka felt right, like he was meant to comfort her and protect her for the rest of his life, but that was ridiculous. A person wasn’tmeantto be with someone else. At least Drake wasn’t. He was meant to be a commander, to stay by Trev’s side. Not Myka’s.
She cried in his arms for over an hour. When her cries finally gave way to sleep, Drake stood, cradling her. She snuggled in closer to him, curling her fists up against his chest. He hesitated for a moment, staring down at her. Her cheeks were red from the tears, and her pink lips parted.
She looked peaceful.
Beautiful.
Perfect.
Gently, Drake placed her on top of the cot, then stepped back. He had a strong desire to curl up next to her and hold her all night long. His arms ached for that, and his body begged to be near her. It was like his brain was in a fog, like his heart was inside his mind erasing every line that he had drawn. He needed to shake these feelings—get rid of the urge to hold her, protect her. Because Mykaleen Adler wasn’t his. Not really.
