At Derrik’s words, Apollo stopped dead and pierced his friend with his eyes.
“Pardon?” he whispered.
He wanted to believe he didn’t understand his friend.
But he had a feeling he understood his friend.
He watched as Derrik planted his feet apart and his fists to his hips.
Oh yes.
He understood his friend.
“If you don’t want her, I’ll take her,” he repeated.
By the gods, he had to jest.
“Are you talking about my wife?” Apollo asked low.
“She’s not your wife,” Derrik returned.
“She’s my wife,” Apollo bit out.
“She’s not your bloody wife,” Derrik clipped.
“Gods, man!” Apollo exploded, coming to the end of his patience and swinging out a hand. “You know she is just as she isn’t.”
“No, Lo. I just know she isn’t,” Derrik returned.
Apollo felt his eyes narrow. “Are you deranged?”
“Not in the slightest. She told me you told her that you didn’t want her. If that’s the case, I’ll take her. We’ll be away this eve. We’ll go to the Vale, Fleuridia, somewhere you don’t know where we are but also somewhere far away from you so you’ll never see her with me.”
Suddenly, Apollo’s palms itched, his skin prickled and through this he warned, “I suggest you stop talking.”
Derrik shook his head.
“I won’t. You left her alone, forlorn and frightened. She will not be alone, she’ll not be frightened and she’ll never be forlorn. Not with me,” Derrik stated.
Apollo held his friend’s eyes—his closest friend—and a sick feeling snaked up his throat.
Because of this, his voice was deadly quiet when he asked, “In saying this, are you saying that you held feelings for Ilsa?”
“Don’t be daft,” Derrik spit out. “In saying this, I’m telling you I have feelings for Maddie.”
Apollo’s head jerked. “Who the bloody hell is Maddie?”
“She’s our Ilsa,” Derrik replied.
Apollo crossed his arms on his chest and inquired, “Our Ilsa?”
“Me and the men. Maddie is our Ilsa. We called her madam out of respect and because it was too difficult to call her Ilsa remembering the one before her. Through that, she became Maddie.”
This intimacy, this shared history, no matter how recent, struck Apollo in his gut and the poison again started to rise in his throat.
He didn’t have time for this discussion or these feelings. He needed to end both right now, get to Ilsa, speak with her, get her to Karsvall and get on his way.
“You speak of my wife so you knew my response before you made your pronouncement,” he declared. “You’ll not take her. She isn’t yours to have. She’s mine.”