I collapse against the rocks when a flash of lightning reveals that I’m not out here alone. Someone has been watching me.
26
ROWAN
Iwasn’t going to come down to see her. I held off all night and was more than a little preoccupied by thelatest development on Marie Elonaise. It was the first thing to distract my thoughts from the blonde since I first laid eyes on her. It was welcome, and I pored over the intel from the French government. Fingerprints. That’s it.
But Marie’s still out there. She’s still slinking around.
I leave in the morning, and I’m anxious to go.
Except I don’t want to leave Marcella. At first, I told myself that the gnawing sensation was because I don’t trust her, and I’m the only one here who knows she’s Ella and is possibly up to no good. At least she could be. I honestly don’t know.
It occurred to me that she could simply be running from something or someone—the person who did that to her back. The palace could be her safe haven from years of abuse. That’s almost how this seems. But I don’t know because she won’t tell me, and because she won’t tell me, I still don’t trust her.
Tonight she ran right past me in the hall. I was still debating whether I was going to go to her room and had been standing outside, pacing the servants’ quarters atmidnight for longer than I care to think about. I couldn’t decide if I was going to talk myself into her room and spend my remaining hours inside of her. Holding her. Talking to her.
Or if I was going to do the sensible thing and go back upstairs to bed.
I knew I was going to do the latter. But I resisted and tried to talk myself out of it all the same. The woman has me spun up. I’m a junkie in need of a fix, and she’s the only drug I crave a taste of.
But when she ran past me, breaking before my eyes, I didn’t question myself. I followed her out into the rain. I don’t know what happened. What drove her to this moment. Why she wasn’t in her room at this late hour. I doubt she’ll tell me, but right now, I don’t care.
Her body settles, collapsing exhaustedly against the rocks. Lightning flashes, and her head quirks up, catching me as I move toward her.
“What are you doing out here?” she yells, furious that I saw her, yes, but also to be heard over the pounding rain.
“That’s my question to you.” I take another step, climbing up the rocks and mindful of my footing so I don’t slip. “What the hell are you doing out here in the middle of a storm like this?”Screaming your head off and crying like no one is watching, I don’t add. I climb up to the next. This is where Samil fell to his death, so it’s a bit ominous for me. Even more so because it’s where he wanted to throw Bellamy to.
It’s likely coincidence that she picked this spot to lose herself for a bit, but still, I don’t like it.
“I…” She trails off and almost comically wipes her face. For what? So I won’t know she’s been crying? It’s pouring rain. Who cares about tears?
I reach the large boulder she’s perched on and crouch beside her. My hands cup her face, and I hold her steady, my eyes bouncing back and forth between hers. “Are you okay?”
She laughs, but there’s no humor. “I’m great. Never better.”
“Did someone hurt you?”
She pushes my hands away, ever the tough girl. “You need to stop trying to be my hero. I don’t need you to save me. Hell, I don’t even want you to try.”
I stare into her. “Is that true? That you don’t want me to try?”
She looks away. “Stop following me. It’s creepy.”
I chuckle. I can’t stop following her, even if it is creepy. She’s made me a stalker. Whether that’s due to safety concerns or my previously mentioned obsession, I don’t exactly care.
“No,” I tell her bluntly.
She goes to argue, but a whole-body tremble hits her, and she’s shaking. From the rain or from adrenaline or from her tears, I don’t know.
“Shh. I’ve got you.” I kiss her forehead and encircle my arms around her so I can tuck her body against mine. She’s cold and shivering uncontrollably despite the warm temperature. I draw her into me, shifting us both so she’s on my lap and I can hold her.
Lightning flashes overhead, and I want to get us out of here.
I take her face in my hand and lift it. I do it to gauge her reaction. To see if she’ll let me take her inside, but the look in her eyes stalls my breath, and I dip in and kiss her instead.
I expect her to push me away or tell me this can’t happen—as she always does—or possibly tell me to fuck off and mind my own business. What I don’t expect is for her arms to wrap around my neck so she can hold me close as she kisses me back as if her life depends on it. I grip her tighter, my head tilting, and my mouth opens. Our tongues meet, and it’s wet and warm, and she tastes like tears and sorrow.
