“And I’m sure Octavia, Xavier, and Red are buying that bullshit too.But I shared a womb with you, dear sister, and much as I prefer nonfiction, I’ve read enough romance novels to recognise a woman in mourning.”
That makes me stop.“You’ve read romance novels?”I say, my face scrunching up.
“First, is it that surprising?I’ve spent five hundred years reading, you don’t think I’d have at least dabbled in every genre they have to offer?”
I open my mouth and find myself bereft of any decent comeback.“Fair.”
He drops an elastic band, his nose crinkled.“And second, I said ‘on the face of it.’”
I narrow my eyes at him.But he continues his monologue, growing more smug by the second.Gods, I hate it when he’s like this.
“You’ve been at work, gone to the gym.And in the evenings, you’ve been drinking.”
“Exactly.Completely normal behaviour for me,” I say, knowing he hasn’t got a leg to stand on and forming my own smug smile.
His eyes glint.
My smile falls.
“You haven’t been fucking though, have you, Dahlia?”
Ah, shit.
“Not that I want to know anything about your love life.But usually, you’re oh so liberal with sharing which girl you fucked on what night.And yet it seems you’ve gone two entire weeks and not a mention of anything.Now, unfortunately, it shames me to know this, but I dare say I’ve not seen more than three days in the last five centuries where you haven’t had a tale of some whore or another to tell me.”
I put the dumbbell down.He’s got me.
He folds his arms.“So, are you going to explain?Or do I have to play the guessing game?”
I slump against the bench.Gabriel comes to join me, settling next to me and leaning on my shoulder.
“You are repulsive and smell like three-day old gym kit.But I can see that you need me.Praise me for being so gracious,” he says and lowers his head to mine.
“Ever the dramatic, Gabe.”
“Was it the princess?”he asks.
I sag against him, a heavy sigh billowing from my chest.“Yeah.It just sort of happened.”
“That’s the way it always is with love.”
“Stop spouting your romance nonsense.It’s not like I can do anything about it.”
He lifts his head up and stares at me hard.“And why the hell not?”
“Come on, Gabriel.Be serious.She’s a freaking magician princess.We’ve only just agreed to permanent peace, it’s not like their city would accept us.”
“And what about ours?”
I shake my head.“She’s a royal.She can’t just leave her city.”
“I mean this with the greatest respect, but she’s the spare.She has more freedom than Morrigan.You’re making excuses not to try.What I don’t understand is why.”
He’s right.I’ve run out of reasons.Fuck, I hate it when Gabriel is right.
“You know you need to go back for her, don’t you,” he says, nudging my shoulder.
“What if she doesn’t want me?What if she won’t leave her city?Or what if, in her mind, it really was just while we were there for the wedding?”
