Scarred(Never After #2)(58)

He commands my body the same way he commands a room; effortlessly. I sink into his hold, allowing my mind to shut off for the first time all night.

For some reason, the way he’s holding me, the way he’s pulling me just a little too tight, and a little too close, makes tears crop up behind my eyes.

He makes me feel safe. Important. And I haven’t known that since my father.

If I dig a little deeper, it’s easy to see that Tristan and I, we’re cut from the same cloth, and that’s part of the reason I can’t stand the sight of him. Because looking at Tristan is like looking in a mirror and seeing the pieces of myself I try so hard to hide.

But he doesn’t hide them, and I’m not quite sure how to handle that.

My jaw stiffens as my vision blurs, and I try harder to hold back the sadness, not wanting to show weakness in a roomful of people.

Tristan’s face softens, his fingers tightening around my waist before he pushes me outward, spinning my body around and drawing me back in, closer than we were before. Too close to be appropriate. My stomach flutters like it has wings, and wetness seeps between my thighs.

His lips brush my ear. “No, little doe, not here. They don’t get your tears.”

I nod against him, my nostrils flaring as I breathe in deep to stem the angst that’s rolling around my insides like a wrecking ball.

I’m sure people are staring.

But I revel in his touch.

His fingers dig into me, like he never wants to let me go before he steps back, his hand slipping into his pocket as he bends at the waist and grips my fingers, bringing them up to his mouth.

Arousal pulses through my core when his lips touch my skin, my forehead scrunching when something crinkles between the pads of our fingers. I tighten my grip, so whatever it is doesn’t drop from my grasp.

“Thank you for the dance.” And then he spins around and storms away, his black tailcoat whipping behind him.

My fist closes around the piece of paper, my heart beating wildly in my chest.

I smile at the few lingering eyes, and as casually as possible, walk to the side of the room, nodding at people as I pass them by, anticipation winding tighter with every step I take.

It isn’t until I make it to the far wall that I turn away and unfold the note with trembling fingers.

Meet me where you kiss the stars.





CHAPTER 33





Tristan





Jealousy is quite the emotion.

I would be a liar if I said I’ve never had it sear against my insides and singe wicked thoughts into my brain. The first time was when my father missed our evening talk, choosing instead to meet with Michael and go over a Privy Council meeting that was happening the next day. For hours, I sat at the edge of the cliff, trying to convince myself that he would show, while knowing deep down he wouldn’t.

But I worked through the envy years ago, knowing I was destined for greatness; that I would rise and take everything in the end. As for my father… well, things don’t hurt as bad when you learn to numb yourself to the pain.

The scar on my face twinges, and my fingertips graze across the rough edges, trying to come to terms with the fact that once again, the bitter tang of jealousy is carving itself into my psyche, creating emotions I haven’t felt since I was young.

Seeing Sara get manhandled by Claudius sent a rage unfurling within me, disgusted he thought he was worthy of speaking her name, let alone touching her skin.

But seeing her with my brother? The jealousy is a sickness, mutating every cell and infecting every organ, until it coats my insides and settles into the marrow of my bones. It makes me feel, once again, that I’m nothing but a lost little boy, stuck in the shadows and watching him hold everything I wish to have.

But Michael would rather kill her first than allow the embarrassment to his name of letting her go. So, until I give the hyenas their revolution and assume the throne, all I can hope for is stolen moments in the shadowy nights.

The grounds are darker than normal, thick clouds looming over the city and hiding the sky from view. I have no clue if the ball rages on, but now I don’t care. Edward’s already told me we’ve accomplished what we set to do, and out here, in my mother’s garden, no one is around.

Leaves crunch on the ground behind me, and I tilt my head back, blowing rings of smoke in the air.

“Technically, there are no stars out tonight for me to kiss.”

I smile at Sara’s voice. “Maybe they were waiting for you to arrive.”

She scoffs, walking around the bench with her hands on her hips. Gone is the woman in the lace ball gown, and in her place is a simple girl in a black dress with a skirt that stops above the ankle.

Earlier, she was beautiful, but it’s in these moments where she takes my breath away.

Smirking, she walks up to me, her floral scent wafting into my nostrils as she bends down and takes the joint from my mouth, bringing it to her lips and inhaling, her gaze holding mine.

My fingers tense with the need to pull her into my lap.

“So…” She straightens, glancing around. “This is different.”

I quirk a brow. “Is it?”

She sighs, pursing her lips as she stares down at me. “I’ve decided you’re incapable of having an actual conversation. All you do is ask question after question.”

My legs stretch out until they surround her, caging her in. “Do you think so?” I ask, my hands reaching for her hips.