Page 55 of A Sweet Destruction

Esme shook her head, but didn’t tear her eyes away from mine. “That was a one time thing. Stress of the day and all.”

I didn’t step closer, knowing that would send her running, but I took my chances and tucked my chin down. Enough to cause a sizable shift, and, if I was a betting man, a slight intake of breath.

While the Bond shot off like a firework at that realization, I forced myself to stay focused. “We talked about this. This isn’t the time to risk anything stupid happening. If sharing a bed means you sleep, then we’re sharing a fucking bed.” Well. The Bond took over for that last bit, turning my words in a rumbling growl.

I opened my mouth to apologize, not meaning to threaten her, but was cut off by the pink hue dusting across Esme’s cheeks and nose.

That shade of pink was the last thing I saw for a long time, a haze over my vision as I moved blindly through the motions of getting ready for the day. As I walked in perfectly timed strides next to Esme into the main hall. Even through a scuffle over breakfast that ended with Esme threatening to throw a pastry at me.

By the time we sat down at a table with Bellamy, Soren, and Freya, that haze was almost gone. Almost.

Esme went for the seat across from me, clearly intending to put distance between us. “You know this only gives me a better view of you, right?” I said under my breath as I passed over her breakfast plate.

Ah, pink again. What a lovely color.

“Sophie seemed well,” Soren said. Before Bellamy had come around, he’d flirt with my sister just to fuck with me. Now, Sophie’s looking well transitioned into Sophie seemed well. “The kids too. By God, do they have energy, though. Annie has a career as an athlete if the way she climbed up Esme is any indication.”

I smiled, and was shocked to see Esme match it, looking at me with fondness in her expression.

Even though it was caused by affection for a child, I wanted to see that again. Needed to. The Bond seemed eager to agree, gnawing at the confines of my mind.

Years of training beat into me by merciless soldiers—that was the only reason I was able to continue speaking after that.

“She’s good. The kids are getting older, which helps. School is taking up more and more of their day, so it’s finally giving her some time,” I said, hating how I had to repeat what Sophie told me instead of being there to witness it for myself.

“I’d love to meet her. She seems wonderful,” Bellamy said, taking a sip from her mug of coffee before continuing, “I hope it didn’t seem rude to not introduce myself. I tried to sneak away but—”

“You two were being hounded by reporters,” Esme finished.

Hounded might have been too soft a word. There were several points where I’d lost sight of them behind the crowd—a tough feat considering Soren’s big ass head tended to rise above most people. “I’m surprised Soren didn’t break a camera.”

“Almost broke a nose, I’ll tell you that much,” Soren grumbled, suddenly looking at his mug of coffee like it had said unforgivable things about Bellamy.

“Soren,” Bellamy said, reaching over to pry his death grip off the ceramic before he shattered it. “He wasn’t being that bad.”

Soren was entirely unconvinced. “He asked you about the fashion on Muli.”

“To be fair, it’s quite beautiful,” Esme said, fiddling with one of the necklaces she wore. One from Muli, and beautiful indeed. “And quite important to understanding their society.”

Soren nodded through a sip of coffee, his eyebrows pinching in a silent expression of eager agreement. “It was the way he asked.” Likely vapid and discrediting Bellamy’s importance to our operations there. “I never liked that guy. He’s the one that always tries to fly a drone outside of the Royal nursery to get photos of the newborns.”

Soren and Bellamy laughed, a sound that had always sounded annoyingly melodic, like the Bond made their respective expressions of joy meld into a perfect harmony. Only this time, there was a different note, a low hum underneath the sound.

One that belonged to Freya, apparently.

“I assume that guy is well known in Florus?” I asked. No one, Freya included, knew much about her upbringing before she’d been shoved through the Bridge as an experiment, but they’d brought her out here from the capital.

Freya looked up at me, her expression pinching. Nothing more than the tiniest little line appearing between her brows before smoothing out. It was so fast, it was very possible I was imagining it. Especially when her expression bloomed into a smile and she said with a breezy tone, “Not him specifically, but I remember people always freaking out about the Royals. I think I remember when Soren’s sister was born. Everyone was crying in the street.”

Soren’s smile was haunted, full of grief for the sibling he never got to see grow up.

“I’m surprised he didn’t try to sneak away to our room last night,” Bellamy said.

“They caught two stowaways.” Freya’s smirk was subtle, which for her meant she was deeply pleased with herself.

“Did they catch them or did you catch them?” Esme asked, directing a bright smile towards Freya. Another one categorized that I would be replicating.

It wasn’t that I didn’t know Esme’s smiles, I wasn’t that much of a blind asshole, it was just that I’d never realized how few of them—if any—had been given to me, how few I’d earned.