Page 28 of Uncrowned

My pulse jumped.

“Why did he tell you?”

I took in how she was in the middle of the staircase, holding to her side.

“Your captor is running out of patience. He refuses to hold this conversation until you come down and get back in bed.”

Seconds passed.

“I want the entire story, or I go back up the stairs and fight.”

She took a step down cautiously but didn’t stop until she was sitting at the bottom of the bed, facing me. She looked like a cornered animal, but she’d followed orders while staying firm to what she wanted. I smiled, knowing she couldn’t see it.

“You want to know why he told me. It’s simple. Because I left him no choice. I’d already cut him up badly. The bastard was a coward. He was supposed to be telling me his secrets. I had no idea one of those would be you.”

“Oh. So… you learned about me by chance. I see.”

My head cocked to the side at her soft words.

“Nothing is chance, Penelope, just design.”

“Like… fate?”

I didn’t answer. Not because I didn’t want to, but because I didn’t know.

“Do you plan to hurt me?” She winced, cringing through the agony she must have felt. “I’m not sure why I’m here.”

I took a step, watching as she scooted further down the bed away from me.

“I told you why you’re here.”

“No…” Her face went down and her cheeks reddened. “You said you wanted me. That doesn’t tell me what you plan to do with me.”

I took another step causing her to stand and ease around the far side of the bed. I didn’t put my focus on her as I came to sit on the mattress and lean against the headboard.

“One day at a time. I make no promises other than this. Everything I do will be in your best interest, whether you understand it or not. Like right now. Look at you. You’re in so much pain that you can’t let go of your side. You’re constantly shifting your feet, and you’re paler than usual.” An odd ache twisted in my chest. “The entire side of your face is bruised and swollen. I know you’re going to want to fight again, but I need to see if you’re okay. To do that, I need you to come back to the bed and sit down. You’re not well.”

“I’m not getting close to you.”

She took quick steps back but stopped, crying out as she pitched forward, holding to herself tighter.

Something wasn’t right. I could tell by the way her color was quickly dropping.

“Think Penelope. You’re injured. Your captor notices. He demands you obey and return to the bed. Not to hurt you but to evaluate your condition. Do you panic and make the situation worse? Or do you take control and obey?”

“I control, but I’m fine. My enemy can just take my word for it. I’m not getting on that bed with you.”

But she would, one way or another. She wasn’t in control, I was, and I proved it as she took another step back. My head gave a threatening shake, and fear flashed as she jolted to a stop. She blinked rapidly, lowering her gaze through her thoughts. She reached down to the long, white nightgown she wore with her free hand, bunching the fabric in her fist. Her lids closed and her breaths were deepening.

“It’s bad,” she said, straining. “Really bad. But I won’t die. Bruises won’t kill you. Broken bones mend. Pain fades. You can stop worrying about me… and… tell me where I can get something to drink because I…I—” She swayed, and I was already sliding over the bed, barely catching her before she hit the floor.

Penelope was limp in my arms, and I knew she’d passed out. The damage was extensive, and I was not taking any chances. I carried her to the bed, lying her down. Black hair splayed over the dark pillow and for a long moment, I couldn’t stop the unexpected fluttering that took over my insides. Fixation flourished, growing through the closeness. I traced my finger over her bruised cheek, moving towards her full lips. She was here… and she was badly injured. The realization was enough to rip me from the spark of awe I’d been sucked into.

Damn Allen for hurting her. The beating I’d given him as he’d bled out did nothing to appease the demon inside me. It clawed into my heart and mind making me see—making me feel—nothing but her. How could I have taken my time and made him suffer when Penelope needed me? Needed… me… like my mother had needed my father as she bled out. Like he’d needed her.

Vengeance hadn’t been there in those moments, only Penelope, and I hated that I couldn’t go back and make him endure my blade even more.

I reached for the strap of her nightgown, easing it over her shoulder. As I went to grab the other side, I paused, narrowing my eyes at the slight shake of my fingers. It made no sense that seeing this woman naked would be any different than the ones I’d seen before, but it was. It was her.