Cora Roger gives a rough, sarcastic little laugh. “Jealousy? Jealousy? Cora, this has nothing to do with jealousy –“ “Then what is it?” I ask, confused. “Honestly, Roger – if it’s not jealousy, then what else is your reason for not wanting Hank here to take over for me, and treat these men w
And I put my head on my poor wounded mate’s shoulder and let him lead me away to our room. Now, in the cold light of morning, I wake before Sinclair and take a moment to look him over while he’s sleeping. The burns on his body were restricted mostly to the skin that wasn’t covered by clothing, a
Ella I’m the last one to the conference room – baby stuff – but when I come through the door I’m very surprised to see that it’s just family gathering today. “Where is everyone?” I ask, holding Rafe close to my chest so that he peers over my shoulder. He’s a very curious baby – he likes to l
“We are,” Henry confirms, drawing my eyes towards him. “But the master,” I say – and as I talk, I know I should just shut up and listen, but I can’t help myself. “Did he mean – did the priest mean the God of Darkness?” “That’s where it gets complicated,” Henry says carefully, speaking slowly
Ella “D-duke?” I stutter out, completely overwhelmed by the information, my eyes going wide. “There are dukes? And I had – I have an uncle!?” “I’m sorry,” Henry says, and I can see the guilt written all over his face. “I overlooked this – honestly, no one has heard from him in years – and,
“A longer plan,” I whisper, sitting back against my chair. “To – to reclaim the throne. To keep it…in his family’s line.” And my eyes drift back to Rafe now, cooing gently in his father’s arms. My baby, the grandson of a King. The nephew of a Duke that, perhaps, always wanted to be in charge
Ella “Um, excuse me,” Roger says, and Sinclair and I – mutually surprised – snap our attention to him. “Obviously,” he says, pointing a slow hand between the air between him and his brother, “the question of why the Sinclair blood was desired is the only one with the clear answer –“ “Oh my god,
“God,” I say, slumping back in my chair, shaking my head in wonder. “He really thought of everything, didn’t he?” Around the table my family nods in confirmation, but Henry holds out a hesitant hand. “It is important,” he says, moving his gaze to each of us in turn, “that we all realize that this