Lone Prince (Royally Unexpected #7) - Lilian Monroe Page 0,67

I can’t ask him to take care of me. I can’t beg him to love me. I can’t let him carry me through life when I know I can walk on my own.

My mother showed me exactly how strong I need to be to do this. I’ll take care of my baby, even if it kills me just as it did her.

This child isn’t a burden. It’s not a controversy, or a scandal, or a royal bastard to be splayed across the kingdom’s headlines.

This baby is my gift, and I’ll cherish it, even if it means saying goodbye to the Prince.

“Will you let me meet the baby, at least?” Wolfe’s voice is low. His brows are drawn together and damn it, my heart just shatters right there in my chest.

I won’t cry. I can’t cry. I need to be strong, to follow this through to the end and make sure I do what’s best for my child.

I should say no. I should tell him it’s a bad idea—his every move is tracked and photographed. How could we do it without fresh headlines being penned?

Call me weak, but I just can’t make my head shake. Instead, I just dip my chin down. “Maybe.”

Wolfe’s hands ball into fists as his teeth grind together. Amber eyes pour all their hurt and pain and anger into me, and I accept it all. I drink it up, because on some level, I think I deserve it.

Then he blinks, and the emotion is gone. “Okay. If that’s what you want. Goodbye, Rowan.”

I watch him walk out of the office, leaving the door open so I can listen to his fading footsteps.

27

Wolfe

I’m shell-shocked. I walk through the castle and find myself in the back gardens, staring at the frost-covered branches without feeling the chill in the air.

I’m going to be a father, but Rowan doesn’t want me to be involved.

Fate is laughing at me. It’s the only explanation.

Abby died in my arms, and I didn’t even know she was carrying my child. She probably didn’t know either. Her heart just stopped, and I couldn’t do a thing to save her.

Rowan’s carrying my child, too, but she’s taking it away from here to choose a better, more normal life. Twice I’ve loved. Twice I’ve let myself open up to a woman. Twice they’ve carried my child.

And twice, I’ve lost.

I would fight for Rowan. I’d beg her to stay, but deep down, I think she’s making the right decision. What kind of life can I give her?

Luxury, sure. All the finest clothing and food and wine she can imagine. A private tutor for our child and a big, expensive wedding.

Not her own business. Not her independence. She’d have to give up the things she cares about most just to be with me.

I wander through the castle gardens, powerless and alone. Broken-hearted. Resigned.

It was foolish of me to think I could have it all with Rowan. It was naive of me to believe I could have love and happiness. I already know what life is like. It beats you down and kicks you when you hit the ground. It batters you, day after day, until all you can do is blindly put one foot in front of the other.

Rowan was just a reminder of everything I’ve lost. She was a flash of happiness in my sad, gray life.

Of course she’s leaving. Why would she stay?

I walk until my fingertips turn blue, and finally head back inside. Winter will be here soon, and I’ll have to stay inside and think about everything I’ve lost. Everything I failed to protect.

Isn’t that what happened with Rowan, too? I was too much of a coward to ask her to be with me officially. I was too afraid, and the rumors got to her first. The media stood outside her door, and she felt unsafe, because I wasn’t there beside her. I couldn’t even give her the decency of a real relationship.

Now, she’s making the only choice she can, for herself and our child. She’s leaving.

I find my brothers in the billiards room. Silas looks relatively fresh, considering he was out until all hours last night. Jonah glances up at me from the felt-covered table. He takes a shot, then straightens.

“What happened to you? You look like death.”

“Feel like it, too.” I slump down onto a chair, dropping my head in my hands. “She’s leaving.”

I expect Silas to come out with some snarky comment. A callous jab at my sad little feelings. Instead, I feel