I brush past him.
“Don’t think I didn’t hear that word, Titus, ‘for now’. Just consider the latter when you allow your dick to comfort her. Her husband is king.”
“A king I will kill when the time is right.”
Chapter
Twenty-One
Selene
Nausea churns my stomach. The rose-lined walls aid the sickness.
Why did I hug Titus?
I keep letting him see me cry.
I feel faint.
Stupid, stupid girl!
You don’t behave like this. You’re a mold; you do not bend or break!
Picking up my pace, I nearly fall into the door. Fresh air slaps me in the face as I emerge onto the rose-covered path. The thick vines could be mistaken for marble pillars. Their braided patterns knot so tight, a fly could not buzz through.
This hidden exit from the castle is Galen’s safety net, and a cage he gave me.
My foot meets the path with familiarity. It’s twists and winds, not disclosing the final destination until you’re brave enough to enter it.
When Galen first led me here, I was at his mercy. Exactly what he wanted, it wasn’t until I released my captive breath that he revealed the training field, which he enclosed in more rose bushes.The faster I walk, the fresher the air becomes.
I crave release from these roses! From this cage! From the chemistry that sparks when I look at Titus’s face.
The wider the path splits open, the more my heart cries. It’s so damaged that it should have evolved not to weep.
I glance over my shoulder, seeing Titus and Tristen follow suit. They look like twins, but Tristen’s face has a lightness to it. Blackthorn will expunge it.
Titus is all haunting eyes that lure the predator into his emotional depths. If he wishes to survive, he must resemble a stone. Let things soak into him but not change shape.
The brothers share a heated glance, jaws set firm, eyes locked in a silent argument as they hunt me through the caged path towards my field.
Shit, Tristen knows. He sees the bubbles dancing in the air when Titus and I are close.
He’s wise enough to pop them.
As must I.
I have to stand tall, numb everything. Reaching for a rose, I rip it from its vine, crushing it in the palm of my hand.
I sprint towards my refuge. Running as fast as I can away from the desire I feel for Titus.
There’s a problem. Those feelings are a predator; they have one purpose. To claim. To mark.
I run, they give chase.
I tell them no, I see their claws ready to hook me, dragging me to their jaws, no matter what the repercussions are.
I must discover an alternative tactic to defeat them.Snuffing the flame is impossible, but I don’t have to fan it.
