Ash didn’t feel emotion. He’d perfected that since the night his brother had been stabbed and left for dead because of him. He’d shut out the ability to feel and his family. Shut out memories and need. He’d survived the only way he knew how: By acting as if he had no past. No family or friends. If the occasional memory had slipped inside his head, he’d blocked it. That led to pain and weakness, neither of which he had been able to afford in the life he’d been forced to live. And when he escaped, he’d kept those memories locked away inside the vault in his head.
“Are you slow-witted?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Well then, I asked you a question. Are you or are you not related to the groom?”
He managed to nod, but as the bride and groom were turning, any thoughts he had inside his head vanished.
Gus.The name inside his head sounded anguished. Ash had spent years not thinking about the man now facing him with a wide smile on his face. His brother. The tug of longing had his hands fisting on his thighs. His chest hurt, and his entire body was rigid.
“There now, sweeting. No need to hold that inside you.” A gnarled hand rested on top of his. “Emotion has its place in healing. You acknowledge it, and you move on. The bonds of blood will see you through whatever this is between you and that man smiling up there.”
She cupped the top of his hand, and Ash let her. In that moment, he felt the need to anchor himself to someone, anyone. Because his fear was if he didn’t, he’d start weeping like a babe. He never let people close. Never let people touch him, but he did now. Just this once.
“Who-who is he marrying?”
“Somerset Sinclair. The Sinclair family have lived in Crunston Cliff for generations. They are a good lot, as are the Ravens they marry.”
“Pardon?”
“It’s a story, that one, and one you’ll need to learn,” she said.
The woman Gus was now married to was stunning. Her dress was cream, and she wore a wreath of flowers on her head. Seeing his brother smiling and happy made the tight knot inside him slowly unravel.
“That’s Miss Somerset’s twin.” The gnarled finger pointed to the bridesmaid dressed in ivory.
Ash followed with his eyes and felt something slam into his chest.It was her.
“Twins?” he managed to get out.
The woman was still patting his hand as she talked. Too much emotion was clearly not good for him, Ash thought. He was a hard-nosed privateer who cared about nothing. He did not let women comfort him.
“There are seven siblings in total. All married to those of Raven blood. An anomaly, to be sure, but a good one. Those Ravens didn’t know how to be happy until they joined the Sinclairs,” the old lady whispered.
“You’re not serious?” Ash moved his eyes between the bridesmaid and his brother.Gus.Now he’d opened himself up to seeing him, the memories came flooding back. The fun, the laughter, and the pain.
“Her name is Dorset, the other twin.”
Dorset.
“They call her Dorrie.”
She had black hair and soft pale skin. Her lips were the shape of a cupid’s bow, and she was smiling at the married couple. Her face had a soft, dreamy look on it. Ash could truly say he’d never been soft and dreamy a day in his life, even before it had changed for the worst.
He’d kissed those lips.
“I-I need to go.” He started to rise. “Thank you.” He nodded to the woman, then left the church in haste.
Only when he was outside could he breathe. Hauling in deep, steadying lungfuls of cold air, he tried to relax. Looked up at the huge, solid castle with foundations that had bound it to the earth for centuries, and tried to ease the tightness in his chest.
“Ash?”
He spun and saw his brother in the doorway of the church. His wife was with him.
“Gus,” he managed to get out. It sounded strangled and painful.
“Ash.” Gus stepped toward him, then stopped two feet away, as if he didn’t want to get any closer. “I-I… How are you here?”
