first time he’s called me that.
I can’t help my intake of breath, or my two steps back.
Paxton’s hesitant look tells me he can clearly see the surprise on my face. “Does that scare you?” He holds up his hands like he’s trying to calm a spooked animal.
My hand trills across my sternum. “I don’t know what it does to me. I’ve never heard you say that before.”
“I can keep it to myself a little while longer, but every time I see you, it’s what my heart calls you. I can’t turn it off. I’ve known I belong with you for a while now.”
I know the same thing, but to put such purposeful words to it is a step for which I’m not sure I’m ready. I don’t know that I’m not ready for it, necessarily, just that I need time to turn the words over on my tongue, on my own terms.
I don’t know what to say. Words are stuck in my throat with no hope of making an appearance.
“Tell me I didn’t just scare you away,” Paxton pleads in a whisper. There’s an intensity to his gaze that tells me how frightened he truly is that we might ever end.
There are probably a dozen other things I should say, but an unpolished truth tumbles out instead. “I can’t be your queen without Gray. I won’t leave him behind.”
Paxton touches my cheek, his shoulders relaxing. “I would never ask you to. That’s not an option. You know I love you both.”
Maybe we should kiss in this sort of situation, but my body is screaming for a hug. I fold myself into his arms, resting my head on his chest to keep it from spinning. “I don’t know how this can work if we factor the throne into it.”
Paxton kisses my hair, his arms tightening like he’s worried someone might snatch me out of his grip. “We didn’t know how we would bust out of prison, but we managed that just fine. One step at a time. And that step is years away. I don’t want you to worry about it; I only wished to let you know where I’m at.” His hand bunches in my hair. “Tell me I didn’t just scare you away. I need to hear it.”
“Never,” I tell him, and it’s the truth. “One day, we’ll figure out how I can become your queen. Until then, we’ll take this thing one day at a time. Ten minutes at a time, if needed.”
He exhales, and his grip on me loosens. “That’s perfect. Yes.”
Of course, my stomach chooses that exact moment to growl, alerting us both to the fact that I forgot to sit down for lunch. Or dinner.
He sniggers, his forehead resting against mine. “You shower. I’ll grab you some dinner.”
I kiss Paxton once more before he pulls back. I love the contented look on his handsome face. “See you soon, my queen.”
Finality rings through my bones as I touch his fingers. “I’ll be waiting, my king.”
Paxton staggers against the doorframe, his hand on his heart. His eyes close as if I’ve said something that’s both knocked him to his knees while simultaneously setting him free.
As he walks out into the night, I realize that whether or not I’m ready for the path my life is heading down, it’s coming.
And I don’t regret a single step that’s led me to this moment.
Cruel Couture
Arlanna
Gray didn’t come home last night. He hasn’t been home most nights, and I’ve come to expect his absence. I haven’t seen his face up close in over a week.
Apparently, skipping out on each other is a thing we do now.
But even that drama takes a backseat to the letter that was delivered by carrier this morning. I’ve clutched it so many times with far too much anger, that I’ve smudged some of the ink. The paper is far too crinkled to look professional now.
I’m missing out on too much sleep to filter my thoughts; there’s no chance they’ll come out proper or palatable. Instead of coherent, they come out in a rage, complete with shouting at people who aren’t here to absorb my wrath. Instead, poor Sloan gets to be my only audience.
I try not to fume, but it’s a bad act. It’s quite possible steam is rolling out of my ears. “Why would they think I would be their spokesmodel again? What genius sat in their office and thought to themselves that the woman who was forced to sew their clothes for bloody pennies