His silver eyes bled to near white with rage, fists clenched at his side. “You were so eager to be ravished that you’d forgotten about the marks I put on you in anger?” he laughed darkly, shaking his head.
I blinked back tears, feeling a mix of emotions. He was right; I had forgotten about the marks, but it wasn’t because I wanted his dick. It was because I wanted him. Or maybe I just wanted to be wanted by him. And then shame set in because this was how he chose to reject me—by mocking me.
Yet again, I was left reeling from his hot-to-cold act, cursing myself for thinking I was gaining any traction. What the hell is wrong with you, Calia?
He pointed at my neck, the veins in his arms straining against his skin. “That is exactly why I am no good for you. You are breakable, Calia, in more ways than one. One day, I will destroy you, and you will be powerless to stop me. Mark my fucking words.”
“You’re pathetic,” I said, shaking my head. The words slipped out quickly, and at that point, I didn’t want to stop. I wanted to tell him how unbelievably stupid he was being and give him an ounce of the mistreatment he’d given back. “You won’t let anyone in to see the real you because you’re too scared to handle their judgment if they don’t like what they see. And that, Rion, would destroy you, wouldn’t it?”
We stared at one another for an eternity, and I resisted the voice telling me to apologize—to smooth things over. What was I sorry about? For speaking my mind when I normally censored my thoughts? No, tonight was supposed to be about his apologies. Not mine.
He dipped his chin before raising to his full height and straightening his shoulders. The fervent man I’d spent the past half hour with restored the cold-hearted façade I’d become so familiar with. Rion turned to walk away, but that didn’t stop me from calling out to him again.
“There will come a time when you need something from me, and I’ll be more than happy to watch you beg. Mark my words, husband.”
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Over the following weeks, I created a semblance of a daily routine.
I’d wake up, dragging myself to the kitchen to make breakfast and coffee. I avoided Rion’s mercurial gaze coming from the breakfast nook in the corner before slipping back up to my room and settling into the chair on my balcony to watch the sunrise.
Hating him took up too much time and energy, so if he wanted to carry on his life as though I wasn’t here, I’d let him. I’d been serious when I told him the day would come when he would need something from me, and when it did, I’d be damned if I gave into his bedroom eyes and disarming charm.
After breakfast, I’d shower and get dressed before wandering down to the library—without any detours—and pick up a new book to lose myself in. I’d broadened my horizons since I’d realized the D’Arcy’s collection lacked the more enjoyable varieties of literature, but that hadn’t stopped me from occasionally asking Jasper to order some of my more scandalous favorites.
“Why won’t you ask Rion to do this for you?” he’d questioned once as I handed him my second list of novels to source. My response came in the form of a deadpan look as he pocketed the piece of paper and laughed.
Later, I’d generally find myself walking along the banks of the Odesza. The D’Arcy’s landscape was breathtaking—boasting green lawns, a small hedge maze, and dog kennels. There was an atrium-like building off the kitchens where I often saw Rion reading a book or watching the birds flutter through the trees underneath the sun.
Sometimes, the sight would steal the breath from my lungs, especially as he tipped his head to the sky and closed his eyes. In that singular moment, even if he didn't know it, he allowed me to see him without the walls he'd constructed around him. Too often, I took the sun's warmth for granted, especially as I longed to feel the kiss of the moon's cold breath. But I couldn’t let him occupy more of my thoughts than he already did, so I focused on the dogs.
They quickly became my favorite thing about being a D’Arcy. I quickly befriended their caretaker, enjoying her company and the reprieve she brought.
In the evenings, Leonora forced the family to sit together for dinner. She and Renwick sat on one side of the table while Rion and I sat on the other. They carried on the conversation well enough without my input, only occasionally directing it to me. The topics lacked any real substance. Leonora often filled any awkward silence by prattling on about who she had lunch with that day or how much she spent at the stores where she shopped.
Renwick, I’d noticed, was a keen observer. He and Rion were similar in that regard, but something in his uncle’s gaze made me uncomfortable. Sometimes, when he stared at me, it felt like he was taking a knife and peeling back that first layer of skin. But I couldn’t figure out what he was searching for. I thought myself an open book, never hiding my emotions, but rather, keeping them under control. So, what was there to find that I didn’t already give freely?
Jasper often walked me back to my room after dinner. Sometimes we’d make idle conversation, but others; we just enjoyed the companionable silence. Each time, I’d feel Rion’s stare on my back with every step I took from him, but he never intervened.
He always let me walk away.
Once I was safely tucked away on my couch for the evening, I couldn’t miss the unmistakable squeal of tires as Rion’s car tore out of the driveway and into the night. I never knew where he went, nor did I ask. Honestly, I didn’t think I even wanted to know.
There’d been a woman I’d seen come by the house on occasion, making her way to Rion’s office without so much as a hello. No one stopped her. If anything, they greeted her with a kindness I’d never received. Even Jasper wouldn’t tell me anything about her, claiming it wasn’t his place.
“If Rion wanted to make her presence known to you, he would, Calia. I can’t get involved.”
Rion owed me nothing, not anymore. I was done pretending we could be something we weren’t. My new reality was quiet, but there was comfort in knowing I also didn’t owe any explanations to anyone. I was left to my own devices, and after a lifetime of living under my father’s rule, it was nice to have a quiet sense of freedom.
Brielle had come over several times, typically staying a night or two over the weekend. Rion conveniently had business that required him to stay in the city when she was over, taking Jasper along. We were aggressively surveilled by Atlas, who took his job far too seriously. We were afforded no privacy without him being more than a few feet away. As it was, he was permanently stationed outside my door until Jasper and Rion returned.
The time had come for my dress fitting appointment in preparation for the mayor’s gala. Brielle had shown up early in the morning, bringing a gift from my favorite bakery on the other side of town—a dark chocolate croissant and a scalding hot cappuccino.
“Gods, you’re a lifesaver,” I said by way of greeting, taking the cup from her outstretched hand and inhaling the bitter aroma.
“Yes, good morning to you too, Cal! I’m great, by the way. Thanks for asking,” she said with a smile and a roll of her eyes before pulling me in for a hug.
“Careful! I don’t want to squish the croissant,” I muttered, holding it away from our bodies.