Page 128 of Bloody Royals

Muffled voices could be heard on the other end of the line. I had a feeling he’d be with Atticus and August.

“I’m safe. Probably the safest I’ve been in a while,” I mused. A mouse crawled across the floor, scurrying away at the sound of my voice.

“Tell me where you are,” he demanded.

“You’ll find me,” I whispered.

He let out a lingering sigh full of pain. “Christine, if this is about…”

“About our kiss? I thought you said we should forget it ever happened.” A cold shiver ran down my spine. I tried to swallow, but my throat had turned to sandpaper.

He exhaled into the phone, and I pictured him running his hand through his long hair. “I’m sorry. Please, just tell me where you are.”

I stroked my chin. “I’m not sure I can trust you with that just yet.”

“I won’t let anyone hurt you, or, or control you,” he promised. “I’ll give you whatever you want. We just want you to be safe, Christine.”

“I’m not afraid of them hurting me, Leo. I’m afraid of them controlling me.” I sighed and leaned forward, my elbows resting on the table. “I can’t change the past, but I can try to prevent the future.” Lord Geralt had tried to own me. August had tried to possess my heart. Atticus wanted to control my every move.

“I know,” he said, his voice strained. “I know. We’ll let you be free. I promise.”

“You won’t let me do anything. I’m giving myself permission for once.” I smiled softly, despite the tears streaming down my face. “I wanted to tell you, it was real for me, Leo. It wasn’t a game or some trick. I really loved you.”

“Loved?” I could hear movement and angry voices.

“Let me talk to her, Leo. You owe me that much. I need to hear her voice.” August’s tone was like a knife to the heart. I ached for him but wasn’t ready to talk just yet.

“I have to go,” I said.

“No,” he pleaded. “Not yet. What will it take? Just tell me where you are. I can come alone or—or Augustus can come. Just tell me what you want and we’ll make it happen. We’re all so fucking worried about you. Atticus is…he’s acting so strange.”

I stayed silent as he argued with someone else in the room. The urge to hang up was strong, but I didn’t want to end our conversation just yet.

“Christine?” I could hear his heavy breathing, the sound of his fist pounding against the table. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry all of this happened the way it did. Give me a chance to make things right.”

I chewed the inside of my lip. “Find me, Leo. I know you will, and when you get here, be prepared to follow my lead. You said once that you were on my side. It’s time to prove it.”

When I hung up the phone, thunder rumbled in the distance.

I was jolted awake by a sudden movement next to me. Disoriented, my eyes couldn’t focus. The room was dark, and it took me a few moments to realize where I was.

The storm must have passed during the night, and the sun shone through the rotting curtains of the large window. The guest room was spacious, the windows were cracked, but sunlight still filtered in. A breeze flowed through the room, the humid air turning cool.

My arms and legs felt heavy, and my head ached. I rolled to my side to take in the sight of the beautiful wicker furniture and the stone fireplace. Memories of the last time I was here came flooding back, and I had to force myself not to cry.

“Dead,” one of the maids whispered. “Both of them. The queen is coming to collect the child.”

“I’m insulted that you thought it would be Leo to find you,” Atticus’s voice rumbled from the doorway.

My eyes flickered to where he stood. He had circles under his eyes and a desperate posture, his shoulders slumped as he drank in the sight of me. Atticus looked like something from my dream, like a scene from a gothic painting. Darkness, shadows, and light in equal parts. He was wearing a long black wool coat, the collar up and the top buttons undone.

“Are you here to take me back?”

His eyes brimmed with heat. Atticus stood dark and tall, looking at me with tired eyes. His hair was disheveled, his clothes wrinkled and damp. His hands were in fists, leaning against the doorjamb. He was breathing hard and fast, like he’d been running. “No,” he whispered. “I’m here to fuck you so hard you can never run away from me again.”

A switch flipped in me and I sat up, pushing the sheets off of my body. I was naked and exposed, but I didn’t shy away, I didn’t cover myself. I wanted him to see me, wanted him to look at me enough to realize that he couldn’t control me.

“You think sex will fix this?” I asked.

---