Broken Kingdom (Royal Hearts Academy #4)(138)

Jace runs a hand down his jaw, pretending to think. “Let me get this straight—you didn’t tell us about your relationship because you were protecting him. Kind of like how I was protecting you?”

I see where he’s going with this, but it’s not the same thing. “It’s different, Jace.”

“Different how?”

Now that I think about it…I guess it’s really not.

A lie is still a lie. No matter how good your intentions are.

“I know your heart was in the right place, but you still should have told me.”

Jace makes a sound of agreement in his throat. “You’re right. I’m sorry.”

I do a double take. “Hold on. I must be hallucinating. Did you just—”

“Oh, yeah,” Cole cuts in. “He said it.”

Jace rolls his eyes. “Christ. You two act like I’m heartless.”

“No. We know you have a heart…it’s just buried down deep.”

“Mariana trench deep,” Cole adds with a wink.

Cole laughs when Jace shoots him a murderous glare. “Sawyer said you can be quite the romantic when you want to be.”

Jace looks like he’s about to choke him, but there’s a knock on the door.

The air in my lungs grows thin when I open it and see Oakley standing there. “What the hell do you want?”

Not looking offended in the least, he motions to the two bags in his hand. “I brought dinner. I didn’t know what you were in the mood for, so I grabbed some burgers and a bunch of healthy shit—”

I swiftly snatch the bags out of his hand and slam the door in his face. Because again, I’m hurt and angry…not stupid.

I can feel Jace and Cole staring at me as I set the food on my desk.

“You guys can go,” I tell them.

Reaching over, Cole takes a few fries. “Nah. I’m dying to see how this plays out.”

Jace grabs a burger off my desk and sits on my bed. “It was nice of him to bring refreshments.”

Cole nods. “Word.”

“This isn’t a joke,” I start to say but the sound of movement on the other side of the door snags my attention.

Huffing, I open it.

My jaw drops when I see Oakley setting up a sleeping bag outside my door.

Holy hell. He’s officially lost it.

“Are you out of your damn mind?”

He casually plops down. “Nope.”

“I don’t want you sleeping outside my room.”

Oakley’s smug grin is pure arrogance. “Then invite me in.”

I slam the door in his face for the second time.

Cole props his feet up on my bed. “This just keeps getting better and better.”

Jace takes a few of his fries. “Wonder what else he’ll do.”

“Show’s over,” I grunt, ushering them away.

“Oh, come on,” Cole whines. “It was just getting good.”

I point to the door. “Go.”

Sulking, they both stand up and head out.

I roll my eyes when they stop to give Oakley a pound before they leave.





I’m slipping into bed when a piece of paper slides under my door.

For a moment I debate leaving it there, but I find myself walking over and unfolding it.

Would you have been strong and beautiful like your mother?

Or would you be lost and confused like your father?

All these questions in my head, but none of them will ever be answered.

And even though you were gone too soon, one thing's for sure.

You might not have been planned...

But were loved and you were wanted.





My knees go weak and tears blur my vision as I take in his words.

The organ in my chest beats a painful rhythm against my ribcage as I drop to the floor and press my cheek to the door.

“It hurts so bad.”

It’s the worst ache I’ve ever felt.

His voice is a painful thread cutting through the silence. “I know.”

I close my eyes against the surge of heartache. “I keep wondering what he or she would have been like.”

It’s probably a morbid thing to admit, but I can’t help myself.

It’s as though giving the baby characteristics makes them real and gives me permission to grieve.

“Me too.” I hear his sharp intake of breath. “It goes without saying they would have been good-looking.”

I find myself smiling. “Good-looking and smart.”

He chuckles softly. “Probably a bossy know it all.”

“Definitely.”

Because let’s face it…all Covingtons are.

“I’d want them to have your strength, your brain, your gorgeous eyes and smile…but mostly? Your heart.”

I run my finger along the wood of the frame. “Why my heart?”

I hear him shift against the door “It’s my favorite thing about you.”

A weird twist goes through my chest. It’s odd he’d want that, because I’d want our baby to have most of his traits.

“Well, I’d want them to have your eyes and smile, your passion and creativity, your loyalty…but most of all, your soul.”