Page 48 of Crown of Thorns
“She was stung by a bee,” Dahlia answers. “She’s allergic.”
“No, she’s no’,” he bellows.
“She is, she said she needs an EpiPen.”
“Medics are on the way,” Leo calls out.
“Where is there one? I didn’t know she needed one or I’d have a bloody thousand.”
“M-m-my bag,” I gasp.
“Hen, hang on,” he says, shaking me.
“I’ve got it!” Dahlia shouts as she rushes back to where I lay in the grass and Rhys holds me tightly. She upends the bag and Rhys grabs the injector, pressing it to my thigh.
I don’t have time to brace or flinch as he sends thedrugs that I need into my body.
“Stay with me, hen.”
“Rhys—” I start.
“No. You stay with me. Promise me.”
“Okay.”
“Promise me you’ll stay with me,” he says.
“P-promise.”
But I don’t have it in me to keep it.
And if I were aware enough, I would hope he forgives me, that is, if I wake up, because now? Everything just fades out.
Chapter 15
Told Me Not To
My body feels like I’ve been run over by a truck and my eyelids feel weighted down by sandbags, like the kind the city puts down to keep flood waters from filling the roads—really big heavy ones. I struggle to open my eyes and have to blink away the grit and sleep.
When I do, I see Rhys sitting in a chair next to my bed. He leans forward with his hands dropped between his knees and his head is bent down.
He looks like he has the weight of the world on his shoulders and, as a powerful king, I guess he really does. Worse, I think I’ve added to it.Oopsies. He must feel me watching him because he raises his head and his gaze locks with mine, stealing the breath from my lungs.
He looks ravaged.
I open my mouth to speak, and he clenches his jaw tight. Silently, he shakes his head slightly telling me not to speak, not yet.
“Why?” he asks.
I don’t answer, not because I don’t want to, but because I don’t know how.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Oh, he wants to know why I didn’t tell him about my allergy. That feels like a loaded question. It feels like he is looking for some nefarious answer, but there isn’t one. That doesn’t mean he hasn’t already made up his mind. We’re complicated like that.
“You don’t trust me.” He looks… sad.
I hate that. I don’t want to make him sad but he’s right, I don’t really trust him. I mean, I trust him more than anyone else in this country.
