Everlasting (The Immortals #6)(34)
“Good,” Rhys snaps, reaching toward me and snatching it back. Shoving it deep into his pocket without first taking the time to properly fold it, he looks at me, tel s me to hurry, then hurtles right out my window, right out of sight.
chapter sixteen
“Climb on up.”
I look at him. Frowning as I say, “Up there? With you?”
“Unless you prefer to walk.” His shoulders rise and fal as though he’s prepared to let me do just that.
“Why don’t you walk and I’l ride?” I place my hands on my hips, vowing to tel Alrik about this later.
“Nope, not a chance.” He shakes his head. “For one thing it’s dark out. For another it’s cold. And, for another…” He prolongs the pause, making me wait for it, as though I actual y care. “I’m not al that big on acting nobly or gentlemanly. Especial y when I don’t expect to get anything out of it. Though, if I were to get something out of it, then I may reconsider.”
I gaze up into those glinting blue eyes, the haughty arc of his golden-blond brow, the flash of white teeth in the blackened night sky. A sight that leaves most girls feeling faint, weak in the knees, ready to succumb to his every whim and need—but for me, it just makes my stomach turn, makes me feel as though I might heave.
“Is this how you flirt with Esme?” I ask, knowing I shouldn’t engage him, but it’s not like that stops me.
“If so, I can’t imagine why she’d reject you in favor of your brother. Tel me, Rhys, has she seen this oh-socharming side of you?”
I wait for his reply, expecting him to get mad, to say something cruel about my looks, my family’s low status and lack of finances, but instead he just laughs, his smile growing wider when he says, “Nah, with Esme, it’s al pomp and show, and nothing but the deepest courtesy and respect. You have to know how to play a girl like her. She’s greedy, superficial, and vain. The only thing she sees in my brother is what’s soon to be mine—the power of his position, and, more importantly, the crown. We’re a lot alike, Esme and I. We were made for each other. We belong together. She and I are twin souls, and someday she’l realize it too.”
I continue to gaze at him, fishing around for some kind of sarcastic reply, but the ones I come up with die right on my lips. What he said is remarkably true. They are shal ow, and vain, and extremely narcissistic—and his ability to realize that truth reveals an amazing amount of self-awareness and insight I never would’ve expected.
“So how long are you planning to stand there like that?” he asks, voice bored, thumbs tapping against the horn of the saddle.
“Why didn’t you bring a carriage?” I ask, stil not wil ing to ride tandem with him, though clearly my options are limited.
Watching as he heaves a deep sigh and
springs from his mount until he’s standing before me, a smattering of inches the only thing that separates us.
“Because a carriage attracts far too much notice at this hour,” he says. “Remember, this is supposed to be a secret. Which means I didn’t think you’d want to let your parents in on the fact that you’d want to let your parents in on the fact that you’re eloping—even if it is with the local royalty. But I’m afraid if you insist on continuing to dicker like this, wel , there wil be no need for secrecy as the whole damn vil age wil soon be in on your tryst. So come on, Adelina, what do you say? You stil planning to push against me, or are you ready to submit to the path of least resistance? Be a good girl and hop up—Alrik is waiting.”
I swal ow hard, swal ow my pride, and nod my consent. Bracing against the feel of his hands at my waist as he lifts me up high and gets me al settled, before he hops up himself and warns me to hold on tight or risk tumbling off. Something which he seems to enjoy a little too much—something I do my best not to think about.
We ride for miles. Ride for so long that at one point I al ow sleep to claim me. Awakened by the sound of Rhys’s voice at my ear, soft and surprisingly tender when he says, “Hey, Adelina. You can wake up now. We’re here.”
I rouse myself from his shoulder, brush my hand over my eyes, my hair, and take in my surroundings, try to get a feel for our location, but it’s not one I recognize.
“It’s a hunting lodge,” he says, lips tickling at the very edge of my ear. “It’s our hunting lodge, Alrik’s and mine. And while it’s nowhere near as grand as the palace, I wil say it’s not bad either. I think you’l find it surprisingly comfortable. I know that many, many, many of my conquests have greatly enjoyed themselves here.”
Yep, he’s back to being Rhys again.
“Where is Alrik?” I ask, yanking free of him. But I’ve barely gotten the words out before a whispered voice says, “I am here.”
He reaches toward me, careful y catching me as I slide from the horse and into his outstretched arms. His body so warm, so comforting, that for a moment his awful brother is al but forgotten, until Alrik breaks away and says, “Brother, thank you. I owe you for this one.”
But Rhys just laughs, turns his horse around, and glances over his shoulder. “Forget it. Your bride for the kingdom—” He shakes his head. “Hate to say it, brother, but I’m afraid it is I who wil owe you once your little honeymoon is over and you realize your fol y. I just hope you’re not foolish enough to try to col ect once you’ve sul ied your bed. And while I wish you much happiness and joy and al that, I’m afraid I must return. My sweet little Sophie surely has my bed nicely heated by now.”