Page 103 of Wicked Games (Fallen Royals 2)

I tip my head back, squinting at him. “Really.”

He grins. “Yeah. You thought I wasn’t a monster… Hell, you even convinced me to marry you.” His finger traces the bracelet on my wrist.

Half the time, I forget I’m wearing it.

“Stuck with me now, Wolfe.”

I try to hide my frown. My fears. I flip onto my back and stare at the ceiling, my chest tight.

Life is fragile. Hadn’t I learned that from my parents?

But that day is blocked. What I did to make Caleb hate me is still gone, scrubbed free of my mind. There’s a wall I keep mentally running into, even in my dreams.

And I’m afraid I might misremember something.

“Do you trust your memories?” It’s easier to ask when we’re not looking at each other.

“Sometimes I don’t,” he admits. “But most of the time? Yeah.”

I shake my head. “I don’t. The little pieces I do remember—like the pizza night, or eavesdropping on your mom—”

“You eavesdropped on my mother?”

I glance at him. “You found me in your room hiding behind your door.”

He turns his head and stares me down. “Is this a new memory?”

My cheeks get hot. I wonder if he can tell, even in the dark. “It’s coming back.”

“The football team is going to the state championships in December,” he says suddenly. “They’re playing against Lion’s Head.”

Theo and Liam are on the team. And the last time we went to a game, Caleb caused major drama with Amelie.

“So?”

He chuckles. “So, we’re going. It’s at Lion’s Head this year, since they’re last year’s champs.”

“You can’t just order me to go to a football game.”

“It’ll be fun,” he says, rolling toward me. His fingers walk down my stomach, dipping into my panties. He swipes across my clit, and my back arches off the bed. It’s a lazy assault, and he watches me squirm under him.

This kind of attention—the slow, meticulous kind, where he sees everything—makes me hot.

Maybe it’s because no one else has looked at me like he does. Like I’m the source of every ounce of pain… and his redemption.

I can be that for you, I silently vow.

He presses his lips to my cheek, just below my eye. His tongue flicks out and tastes my skin. “Why are you crying?”

I don’t know.

“Because I’m broken,” I answer. It’s true. My axis is tilted, spinning me off course.

My mind has been filled with friendship and love and thoughts of a future. And Caleb, promising forever.

“You’re not,” he whispers. Every word is another brush against my cheek. “Even if you think you are. Even if I’ve tried to break you. You’re stronger than you think, little wolf.”

He withdraws his hand from my shorts and pulls me close.

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