Page 77 of The Broken Prince

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Page 77 of The Broken Prince

“Just answer me.” The fact that he hadn’t made me more suspicious. “You said different vampires have different abilities…is that one yours?”

He let out a heavy sigh, no longer calm under the warm water that drenched us both. “No, I can’t read minds.”

That wasn’t the answer I expected. “Are—are you lying?”

“No.”

“Then what is your special ability?”

He didn’t answer. “You’re prying, and I don’t appreciate it.” His tone changed, deepening in his anger.

“So let me get this straight. You didn’t leave with your brothers so you could stay here and protect me, but you won’t be honest with me. I wouldn’t need to pry if you didn’t keep secrets from me. Why wouldn’t you want to share this with me?”

“My business is my own, alright?” He abruptly left the shower, grabbed a towel, and walked out of the bathroom.

Shocked, I remained under the hot water, unsure what to do because I hadn’t expected him to react so viciously. I followed him a moment later, seeing him scrub the towel through his hair before he did a quick pat-down of his body. He was so damn sexy, but I didn’t have time to appreciate the sight. “What is your problem?”

He threw down the towel. “This isn’t a relationship, Harlow. I’m not obligated to share any secret with you.”

“Not a relationship…?”

He pulled on a clean pair of boxers. “You should go back to the castle.”

“If it’s not a relationship, then what is it, exactly?”

“A fuck-a-thon. That’s all.”

“So do all your fuck-a-thons include you pledging your life to protect mine?” I snapped. “I’ve had a lot of fuck-a-thons, and I can promise you none of those guys would ever risk their neck for mine. None of them would choose me over returning to their lands. If it’s not a relationship, then what is it?”

He was angled toward the window, his muscular back turned to me. “Just go.”

I continued to stare at his back, in disbelief that he could promise nothing would happen to me…and then, thirty minutes later, claim this was meaningless. “Alright.” With wet hair, I grabbed my clothes off the floor, put the heavy armor back on, and walked out.

* * *

I had dinner with my family and tried my best to pretend everything was fine.

Atticus joined us, looking even better than the last time we’d spoken. He took the seat across from me. “When I heard we were having pot roast, I knew I couldn’t miss it.”

We gathered around the table and sat down, not really talking because there was only one thing to talk about…and no one wanted to talk about it. Once most of the meal was gone, we dipped our bread into the juice to get whatever was left over. It was a meal better suited for the cold climate of HeartHolme, but we still loved it, even on a hot summer day.

“Are you okay, Harlow?” Mother asked.

“Yeah,” I said quickly, eyes averted. “I’m fine.”

“That bruise on your arm…” She stared at it because I wore a short-sleeved dress. “It looks bad.”

Father kept his eyes on his stew, ashamed.

“I wasn’t paying attention,” I said, taking the blame. “Knocked it right into a tree.”

“A tree?” she asked incredulously.

Father gave a sigh. “I trained Harlow today…and took it too far.”

Ivory looked at him, and the shame on his face seemed to be enough to sheathe her displeasure.

“I just need her to be prepared,” Father said, still not looking at any of us.




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