Page 266 of Reign

I have killed men with less anger than I feel sitting across from her while she holds a burnt marshmallow and tries not to grieve over the possibility that her mother’s belongings were discarded like clutter.

I have wanted before.

I have protected before.

I have arranged comfort and solved problems. Giving is easy when it costs only money.

I have never wanted to restore.

I want to place every stolen piece back into her hands and watch her realize it was never too much to ask for.

The journals.

The necklace.

The perfume.

Her language.

Her garden.

Every memory her brothers locked behind doors and called protection.

No one is taking another thing from her.

And no one is taking her from me.

Elena looks down at the marshmallow in her hand. It’s more burnt than the others.

“I ruined it.”

“It was ruined before.”

A wet laugh escapes her.

Good.

I stand and cross the space between us.

She tips her face toward me, the stubborn set of her mouth at odds with the shine gathering along her lashes.

I take the skewer from her hand and set it aside.

Then I lift her.

A small sound catches in her throat, but she doesn’t resist when I take her chair and settle her sideways across my lap. One arm anchors around her waist while my other hand rises to her face.

Only then do I wipe the chocolate from the corner of her mouth with my thumb.

“You missed this earlier.”

She blinks at me. “Ugh. I forgot I didn’t get it.”

“You did.”

“You let me sit here with chocolate on my face?”

“I was observing.”