“An argument, eh? How can I help?” Almost instinctively, I find myself sitting on the other side of Emily. Helio stares at me intently, eyes almost assessing, but doesn’t comment. Instead, he nods once and continues to keep watch over his queen and lover.
I never did get to figure out what they were arguing about.
Before she can answer, a familiar, mousy figure hurries into the garden, panting.
Rebecca, Emily’s assistant and best friend, straightens with a severe scowl on her face.
“What’s wrong?” Emily asks instantly, jumping to her feet. Desmond stands as well, all of the playful cheer from before diminishing from his face, and Helio takes a step closer, crowding in from behind. I find myself moving as well, reaching down to take her hand in mine. She seems shocked, body tensing, before she gives my hand a grateful squeeze.
“Athena,” Rebecca growls, face pinching. “She slaughtered twenty of our troops at the border.”
Athena is the goddess who resides to the east of Emily’s kingdom. According to my spies, Athena has an army of her own that is beginning to rival even Emily’s impressive force.
And Athena is also a massive bitch.
“Fuck,” Emily curses. She begins to stride after Rebecca, Desmond and Helio on her heels. I remain behind, knowing that I’m not needed for this debriefing.
Normally, it’s just Rebecca and Emily’s lovers. Sometimes she’ll invite her foreign diplomats.
But Emily surprises the shit out of me when she pauses abruptly, turning to stare at me over her shoulder. I momentarily lose my capability of speech, utterly enraptured by her penetrating gaze.
“Are you coming?” she demands, cocking her hip to the side. Desmond coughs to cover up his laugh, whispering something in her ear that makes her blush.
“Um…yeah.” With another wide grin, I hurry towards them.
I didn’t know it at the time, but when Emily called me, she also claimed me. Claimed me as hers.
Forever and always.
I GLARE DOWN AT TATE, mustering all of my rage into that one eloquent look. Honestly, I don’t know why I’m only mad at him. Sin tried to kill her too, and I know for a fact he hasn’t—and won’t—apologize.
But something about Tate has always rubbed me the wrong way. He treats her as if she’s dispensable—as if he can find himself a new lover if he ever so desired.
And yet, despite his crude and outright nasty behavior, he hasn’t strayed. He hasn’t so much as looked at another woman in all the years I’ve known him. A part of him hates Emily, but a larger part of him loves her.
“You don’t deserve her,” I hiss, spitting on the ground beside his mottled face. Shoving Helio’s hands off of me, I turn on my heel and stalk towards Emily’s room.
I need to be with her right now. I need to hold her in my arms and know innately that I’m allowed to. That she’s mine as surely as I am hers.
Just as I enter the hall, Tate’s voice reaches me, barely audible, “I never said I did.”
Ignoring him, I slip into Emily’s room, pull back the blanket, and slide in beside her. Immediately, her tiny body molds against my own until our two hearts beat as one.
I don’t know what the fuck happened to lead us here…
But I’ll be damned if I let someone take her from me again.
CHAPTER 13
I wake to an empty bed.
At some point during the night, I remember Avery crawling in beside me and pulling me into his arms. It felt right…and weird. It’s hard to reconcile the off-limits best friend with the lover. It feels as if I’ve lived two entirely different lives, and I can’t seem to separate the two.
I stare up at the rotating fan a moment longer than necessary. I never noticed before, but there’s a water stain in the corner of the ceiling, the color darkening to a moldy green interspersed with flecks of dark blue and black.
Fuck, I don’t want to get out of bed. I don’t want to face the men awaiting me in my living room. Because if I see them, I’ll have to accept that this is all real, that the life I’ve been living for…for years has been nothing but a lie. It’s almost too painful to think about, like a broken bone that hasn’t quite set right.
The thing is—life hurts.
A lot.
We can pretend it doesn’t, plaster on fake smiles, but there’s no denying that life is a fucking bitch.
Seeing Tate again is the final nail in my metaphorical coffin. No, it’s not just that. It’s the ropes slowly lowering the coffin six feet into the Earth. It’s the shovel filling the grave with fresh, compacted dirt.
Put your big girl panties on, Em, and get the fuck out of bed.
Scowling at the ceiling, I shove my blankets to the floor and meander towards my bathroom. After a quick shower and shave, I dress in a pair of leggings and a sports tank top. I take a brush through my dark hair but don’t bother to braid it away from my face.
I feel like a warrior charging into battle. Only instead of battle armor, I have my own steely determination to defend myself. And I’m gonna need it, especially if I have to face off with fucking Tate.
Tate Blake.
Ha.
When I exit my bedroom, I see Avery in the kitchen, booty shaking as he whips up a batch of French toast. This time, he’s wearing a white apron with the words “Kiss the Chef’s Ass” etched across the front. When he turns, focusing on the griddle, I see his gorgeous ass cheeks.
“Hey, stranger,” I say, smacking his ass as I enter the kitchen. He turns towards me with his familiar boyish grin.
“For a moment, I thought you were Sin,” he replies easily.
“Does Sin spank your ass a lot?” I lift an eyebrow as I pour myself a cup of coffee. “Wait. Don’t answer that. It’s Sin, of course he does.”
Avery chuckles easily as he begins separating the French
