Sound of Madness A Dark Royal Romance - Maria Luis Page 0,95
subtle shake of my head, hoping to send it scattering. When the mark barely moves, I beat back a sigh and grasp gratitude with both hands.
I’m alive. I’m breathing. I can see.
If Saxon Priest thinks anything of the random tic, he doesn’t say so. Instead, he merely lifts his gaze to the stairwell and takes the steps two at a time. “Would you care if I said he’s not?”
Yes.
God help me, but I do.
“He said that he had things to take care of,” I murmur, after nearly missing the next rung when a shadow streaks past my vision, “and I’m going to guess, based on the ash on your shirt, that one of those errands had him meeting you at The Bell & Hand. He sent you to grab Lotts, didn’t he?”
“You’re perceptive.”
“I try to read between the lines and it helps when the lines are visible.”
Coming to the loft’s landing, I motion for Saxon to step behind me, so that I can access the locked door. As a child, my grandmother kept this space as a play area for me, the same as she’d had it for Mum. I’m not sure she would approve of its use today. Two men shut away, one of whom who tried to kill the queen. Meanwhile, the man whose girlfriend—wife? I’m not even sure—did kill the king stands at my back.
No, I don’t think my grandmother would approve at all.
When I reach out to input the security code, something compels me to look back at Damien’s older brother. His eyes are hard like emeralds and the scar in his upper lip lends him a perpetual snarl that should have me recoiling. But I’ve never been one to cower from trouble, and I’m pretty sure that I can give Saxon Priest a run for his money on the scarred front.
Society dictates beauty, but what society never acknowledges is that the most beautiful amongst us are often the ugliest within.
He was dead, Damien told me, in his heart, in his goddamned soul.
Staring at Saxon now, I can see how that might have been true. And probably still is true, in many ways. Here goes nothing. Lifting my chin, I make a point to hold his gaze. “I’m aware that you didn’t kill the king.”
A muscle in his jaw flickers.
“And,” I continue, picking my words carefully, “I’m aware that Isla Quinn is the one who actually pulled the trig—”
My back hits the wall with jarring force.
“You won’t get within a fucking mile of her, do you hear me?” Saxon thrusts his face close to mine, his forearm locking across my breastbone. “I’ll rip your heart out first.”
Thud-thud. Thud-thud. Thud-thud.
Madness.
Damien was wrong.
Isla Quinn may have made this man whole, but she hasn’t made him human. Not completely. And I’m glad for it. Because Saxon Priest is still the man who slaughtered mine at The Octagon and I’m still the woman who led an attack on the Palace, all with the intention of ending the Priest brothers for good. The day we become friends will probably be the day the world ends.
“I want to apologize,” I tell him, my arms hanging loosely at my sides, “for what I’ve done.”
His feral expression shutters.
Having second thoughts about snapping my neck?
Biting back the caustic remark, I push onward. “Your brother said that it’s insincere to apologize for something you once believed in. I agree with the logic, with him, but I’m going to apologize anyway—for any fear you faced, for the hurt I caused. But, mostly, I’m sorry that it’s because of me that you were forced to choose between Isla and your brothers.”
Stilted silence envelops the landing, and I’m distinctively aware that though I hear air rushing past my lips, Saxon appears unmoved. His breathing, his coloring, are as if we’ve been discussing nothing more controversial than the weather. The man has all the emotional dexterity of an iceberg.
After searching my gaze, he pulls back. “I didn’t.”
My head snaps up. “Sorry?”
“Have you ever been loved, Miss Carrigan?”
The unexpected question rocks me back on my heels.
Have I ever been loved?
I’d like to think that Margaret loves me, and that Ian did too, in his own way, but something tells me that’s not what Saxon means at all. He’s talking about the sort of love that’s reserved for a partner, a soul mate, the person who will move heaven and earth to keep you safe, and it guts me that if he has to ask, then the answer must be painstakingly obvious.