Page 78 of The Tower

Finally, I break it.

“My father stole pieces of me,” I say, my voice flat. “He cut out memories like tumors. And he replaced them with his version of reality.” I tilt my head up to look at him. “I’m not okay. But I will be.”

I swallow, then look down at the polished hardwood floor. “I just need a little time. I—I’m sorry,” I say, taking a step away from him. “Let me be alone right now, okay?”

The indecision is clear on his face, but when I plead once more, he nods. I take the victory, then hurry to the yellow bedroom. I close the door, cursing when I realize there’s no lock.

I pull out the computer and the headset, set everything up, then sign in. Almost immediately, I find myself standing outside on the castle’s highest tower, my hair blowing in the wind. The headset isn’t nearly as immersive as mine back home, and I don’t have any tactile sense in Elysium, but at least I’m here, and I gaze out over the kingdom searching for Killiam.

When I can’t find him, I summon Ember, who takes off again with orders to find my prince.

Now, I wait, craving Killiam. Needing him.

Hardly any time has passed when I see Ember returning with Rebel by his side. My prince rides his gray dragon bareback in circles around the tower as I scamper up Ember’s outstretched wing to my saddle, then the four of us are off.

Ember leads, and I can feel Killiam’s gaze on my back.

Soon we arrive at the Mountain Sanctuary, well-hidden from the king between the mountain peaks. Rebel and Ember take to the sky, and I stand still, taking in the beautiful face of my prince, who now looks so much like the man in the other room.

A man who makes my body sing just as Killiam does. More so. A man I crave even though I know I shouldn’t. He’s helping me, true. But only because it suits him.

Killiam comes to my aid because he loves me.

I sigh, wishing that were true. Wishing Killiam were real.

And, shockingly, wishing that Liam Grimm wanted me for more than a means to his end.

That simple truth makes me reel. For years, Liam Grimm has been the devil. A man who had helped me once, only to toss away that goodwill in repeated taunts over the years, reminding me over and over that I was nothing more than a pretty little doll for my father to show off.

And yet he’s the only one who told me the truth about my mother. He’s the only one other than Ruby who helped me escape my father.

And for better or worse, he’s the one whose touch I crave. Even more than I crave Prince Killiam’s.

“You are deep in thought, my princess.” The voice through this headset is muddled, but I still recognize the rise and fall of my prince’s tone. “Will you tell me what troubles you?”

I shake my head. He’s a character in a world I invented. I know that. And yet I foolishly don’t want to hurt his feelings. “I’m just melancholy, my prince.”

“My love, let me help you forget your troubles.” He strides toward me, heat and determination in his eyes. He pulls me into his arms, strokes my hair, my face, my arms, all the while murmuring that I’m beautiful, that I’m his, that he worships me.

But I feel nothing.

And not just because I have no bodysuit.

Oh, god.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper, turning away. For tonight, at least, there’s nothing here that I want. “I shouldn’t have come.”

I expect him to argue. To throw me down and demand a caress, a kiss, even more. My heart picks up tempo as I think about it, and I almost change my mind. But then I shake my head.

Killiam only stands and watches, his gaze full of heat, but he makes no move toward me.

I tell myself the weight of the day is too much, and that’s why I’m so eager to go. But that’s not it. It’s a different touch that I’m craving. Warm and real and belonging to a man I thought I hated.

Maybe I was wrong.

Or maybe I do hate him.

I don’t know. I don’t really care.