Page 68 of Clash of Kingdoms

“You’re sorry?” She spoke with derision, but her voice cracked with tears. “You’re sorry.” She repeated the words like she didn’t understand them or was saying them for the very first time. “Fuck you, Aurelias.”

I dropped my gaze, unable to look at her.

She turned away and walked off. “Fuck. You.”

When I made it to the castle and her chamber doors, my things were already in a pile outside. The armor that hadn’t been cleaned, my uniform that I hadn’t given to the maids, and the rest of my belongings. It was all in an untidy mess, like she’d flung everything out unceremoniously. The only thing she seemed to care for was my sword, which had been placed against the wall, the golden serpent crest on the scabbard.

I stared at it all before I lifted my eyes and looked at the door.

I could see her in my mind’s eye, curled up in bed with the sheets tight around her…sobbing. Her emotions were the most intense they’d ever been, like her life was at risk, when her only wound was a broken heart.

I couldn’t stay with one of my brothers. I couldn’t be anywhere near her because I couldn’t bear to feel her pain. All I wanted to do was rush in there and kiss her tears away, cocoon her body with mine and chase away her misery, but I couldn’t because…I was the cause of her misery.

I had been so uncomfortable with my hunger, but now I preferred starvation to this heartbreak. My eyes dropped down to my belongings again, and I gave a sigh before I gathered them, unable to hear her cries because of the thick door but able to feel them as if they were my own.

“Need a hand?” Kingsnake appeared, his eyes hard in distress. His emotions were swirling clouds of despair, like he’d figured out exactly what had happened just by observation. He grabbed one of my bags and the sword.

I picked up the other things, and we turned away from the door to head down the hallway.

“You’re welcome to stay with us,” Kingsnake said. “Fang said he’ll let you have the couch.”

I ignored the offer.

Kingsnake let me lead the way.

We left the castle again and stepped into the night air. It was cold, just like home, the way I liked. If I’d had a beating heart, it would beat slowly, so slowly it nearly stopped altogether. I was empty inside, a step worse than depressed. I was outside the castle walls and far enough away that I couldn’t feel Harlow’s misery, but the memory haunted me.

We arrived at the cottage Lady Rolfe had offered me, and it was still vacant. I stepped inside the dark and cold dwelling and dropped everything on the couch. Kingsnake threw some logs into the fire and set it ablaze before he lit a few candles in the room, trying to make the place feel like home when home wasn’t a place…but a woman I’d betrayed.

There was a cabinet stocked with booze, so I hit that hard.

Kingsnake took a seat in one of the armchairs. “We can talk about it…if you want.”

I set the glasses on the table and fell into the armchair across from him. My fist curled under my chin, and I stared at the fire.

“You didn’t tell her.”

My eyes remained on the flames, flames that reminded me of the fire in Harlow’s soul. She was hot and wild, burning everything in her path. She wasn’t barren and cold…like I was. “I tried to warn her.”

“Warn her of what?”

“That heartbreak can ruin your life. She didn’t believe me.”

Kingsnake stared at me.

“Told me she wasn’t afraid of getting hurt. Well, now she knows it fucking sucks.” And I was reminded of how much it fucking sucked. I’d known that I would never fall for another woman after Renee, that no amount of time would heal that wound, that no woman would ever be worth a trip down memory lane. But it had happened anyway.

“She wouldn’t be heartbroken if you told her the truth.”

I ignored him.

“You can still fix this?—”

“No.”

“Aurelias.” He said my name with such frustration, like he wanted to smack me upside the head with a rock. “It has already happened. It’s already done. Telling her won’t change what’s already in the past. They are just words.”

“Just words?” My eyes shifted to him, incredulous at that insensitive statement. “Trust me, they are more than just words, Kingsnake. You can’t tell a story without reliving it, and I’ll never tell that fucking story as long as I live. If that means I lose Harlow—so be it.”