My breath caught, my eyes still closed as his voice settled into my bones. Not heat, not lust—longing. A quiet ache, tucked behind the lines of his jaw, the same way he’d always carried things he couldn’t say.
I didn’t move.
Because if I did, I’d break.
The walls I’d rebuilt after everything with Zander, after Kaelith’s rejection, after the bloodline revelations—they all cracked under the weight of Remy’s voice.
“Not a day,” he added. “Even when I told myself it was better this way. Even when I watched you with him.”
Him.
Zander.
My heart twisted, and a new kind of ache bloomed in my chest. One that had nothing to do with the duel.
Why hadn’t Zander interfered?He’d been there. Standing next to Remy. Watching. The second Perin had used his magic, he could’ve ended it. A lieutenant had that authority, apparently. But he hadn’t.
He let Remy do it instead.
Because it wasn’t his place?
Or because it wasn’t hischoice?
The question burned hotter than the bruises on my body.
Zander had never told me he loved me. Not with words. Not even when I needed to hear them.
And now here was Remy, who once left me behind, admitting that he still cared for me.
“I don’t understand,” I whispered, pulling away just enough to look at him. “Why did you dissolve your marriage contract? Even if it wasn’t to the woman the court picked?”
His gaze flicked to the floor, then back to mine.
“Because it didn’t matter who she was,” he said, voice raw.
The air between us held too much regret, pain, longing and I didn’t know which part of it was worse.
“I wasn’t going to spend a life pretending,” he went on. “Especially once I found out what real love felt like.”
My throat closed.
And still… part of me reeled.
Because Zander had touched my soul. He had wrapped me in lightning and anchored storms and looked at me like I washis.
But he’d neversaidit.
And now… I didn’t know who was lying to me more. Remy, or the prince who hadn’t lifted a finger to stop my destruction.
“You didn’t want to marry,” I said quietly, my voice little more than breath.
I didn’t even know why I spoke. I didn’t care what he said next… not really.
I just needed to hear him speak.
His voice had always soothed me. Even now, bruised and half-broken, it wrapped around my ribs like a salve. When we were together, and he’d come back from a mission, I’d always ask him about it. Not because I needed to know what he’d done. I knew there were things he wouldn’t say, shadows he wouldn’t drag into the light, but because his voice calmed the storm inside me.
As it did now.
