“We can’t choose our families. Do you know how many times I’ve tried to kill him?” Thorne says. He looks at me, and sadness fills his red eyes. I almost feel bad. “I am so truly sorry, Asura.”
I roll my eyes.
“So,” Ledger says, leaning on the wall. “What did you do?”
“I fucked up,” Thorne admits, looking at Ledger. “You must realize I never cared about my life. I’m older than your father, and I can barely stay up to date with the slang.” He starts stepping forward to me, but Ledger lets out a warning growl. “I couldn’t confess my feelings to you because I couldn’t work through them. I’m sorry, I’m so broken, and I’m sorry you had me instead of anyone else.”
I swallow. “It wasn’t the fact that you were broken or demented. My boyfriends are ten times worse, but when I told them how I felt, they didn’t run.”
Thorne cocks a brow, looking back at Ledger.
“Not even him. He never tried to move on, and he has not once hurt me like you did.”
Thorne lets out a breath, looking down. “I never did anything with her.”
I roll my eyes. “We weren’t together, anyway. You could have if you wanted to.”
Thorne stands up straight, flexing his shoulders. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”
I shrug. “Not right now. I’m hungry.” I stand and fix the jacket that Ryker got me. It’s a plain letterman jacket that works well with my ripped jeans and black combat boots. I flip my silver curls, looking in the mirror.
It’s been a while since I genuinely looked at myself and felt… normal. The Flame peeks from my shirt, swirling around my breast. I move from the bedroom with my small group following me, and Ryker catches up, wrapping his arms around me.
“You look good, in the face and in the body.”
I giggle. “What does that even mean?”
“You look like yourself again.”
Looking up at my beautiful pink-haired fae, I wrap my arm around his hip. His ear turns a blush pink as he looks at me. “Thank you, baby.”
The conference room is finally fixed, letting us go inside and see the row of breakfast plates on the table. The king stands as we enter, and we start to take our seats.
Khazon and I meet each other’s gaze, and a small smile comes on my face. He looks down, smirking. Last night was amazing.
His eyes move to Thorne, and the smile fades. “Why the fuck is he here? Where’s my Zippo lighter?”
A smirk curl on the corner of my lips. I forgot about the Zippo Thorne stole from Khazon at the waffle house. Obviously, he didn’t.
“Settle down,” the king orders. “I regret to inform you that your stay is no longer welcome.”
Ryker groans. “Atar.”
He holds up his hand and looks at me. “Like your father, you have been nothing but trouble.”
My jaw tightens, and part of me wishes he had talked to me instead of announcing it. “The Gates of Hell might be opened. What will you do then?” I ask him.
He lifts a gray brow.
“Will you be on our side?”
“If the Gates of Hell open. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves.”
“With the utmost respect, I’d rather be prepared than ill prepare.”
“Do you plan on giving them what they need to open it?”
I roll my eyes at him. “It’s a precaution. We should be allies again and—”