Chapter 50
Carver
Dinner went about as Carver expected. Alora and Elowen tried to keep the conversation flowing while Keene cracked jokes and Wren and Fowler remained oblivious to the tension in the room.
Cregon said little. Rix said even less. Torin made attempts at polite conversation, but the looks he kept sending Carver made it clear he didn’t like any of this.
Amryn kept biting her lip, casting glances at her uncle. She’d taken the seat beside Carver, much to his relief. Wren had claimed the chair on Amryn’s other side, so Rix was seated across from them. His attention seemed torn between watching Amryn and glaring at Carver.
He knew a conversation was coming with Rix, and he had no idea what he was going to say. But he needed to make peace with Amryn’s guardian. Even if it looked like Rix would prefer to use his steak knife on Carver.
After dinner, they all moved into the sitting room. Fowler and Wren pulled Amryn into a game of dice. They even invited Torin to join in.
That’s when Rix cornered him. “I need to speak with you.”
Before Carver could nod, his father was there. “We can speak outside.”
Rix’s brows drew together. “I want to speak with Carver privately.”
“That’s fine,” Carver said, cutting off his father’s protest.
His father exchanged a long look with Rix, but he didn’t attempt to follow as Carver led Amryn’s uncle from the room.
Opening the front door, Carver stepped out into the night.
Light from the sitting room spilled onto the front lawn.
Through the glass, Carver could see Amryn playing with his youngest siblings and Torin.
The king of Ferradin smiled with surprising patience as Wren handed him the dice, her mouth moving rapidly as she gave him some form of instruction.
Amryn watched with a small smile of her own.
“You don’t deserve her,” Rix said from behind him.
Carver twisted to face him. “I know.”
Surprise flickered in Rix’s eyes. Then his glare returned in full force. “Have you ever hurt her?”
“No.”
“Have you touched her against her will?”
His hands fisted at his sides. “No.”
“Have you intimidated or threatened her in any way?”
“For what purpose?”
Rix’s eyes narrowed. “To manipulate her or scare her into submission.”
Carver reminded himself that breaking Rix’s nose would not make Amryn happy. “No.”
The man’s stare hardened. “She told me that you saved her life in Esperance.”
And she saved mine. Carver didn’t say that. Or anything, in fact. He had no idea what Amryn had shared with her uncle, and he wasn’t about to give him any information Amryn hadn’t.
Rix’s lips thinned. He crossed his arms over his chest. “Amryn lived a sheltered life in Ferradin. She never should have been given to a man like you.”
“Then maybe you shouldn’t have given her away.”
The shadows on Rix’s face darkened.
So much for making peace. But defensiveness had risen, and he had things to say to Amryn’s uncle.
“She’s stronger than you think. Maybe you sheltered her to protect her, but even living in the background in Ferradin’s court couldn’t diminish who she is.
Amryn is beautiful, intelligent, resilient, and kind.
She is everything I could have ever wanted in a wife.
” His eyes narrowed. “And she is my wife, Rix. Say what you need to say to me, but don’t ever forget that. ”
Rix’s nostrils flared. “Amryn is the only family I have left.” He shoved a finger toward the townhouse. “Your family helped make sure of that.”
“I’m sorry. But there’s nothing any of us can do to change the past.”
“You want me to just accept it, then?” Rix grated out. “Accept that your father killed my parents?”
“Do we have another choice?” Now it was Carver’s turn to point toward the glowing window. “Amryn is in there. She’s a part of my family now, whether you like it or not. And after the emperor’s ball, she’s coming to Westmont with me.”
Clearly, this was news to Rix. His entire face flushed. “She’s not going anywhere with you,” he hissed.
“My family accepted her with open arms,” Carver said, choosing to ignore Rix’s useless assertion. “I’m not saying you have to do the same with me, but for Amryn’s sake, we both need to at least try to get along.”
“How am I supposed to get along with the man who’s trying to steal my niece?”
“I’m not trying to take her from you. I’m just reminding you that she’s my wife, and there’s nothing you can do to change that fact.”
Rix was seething. He took a step forward, and Carver tensed. But Rix didn’t attack him. He gritted his teeth, his voice low and harsh. “You may be the Butcher, but if I ever learn you caused her pain, I will end you.” He didn’t wait for a reply, just pivoted on his heel and stalked away.
As he stormed back into the house, Elowen slipped out. She watched Amryn’s uncle disappear, then turned to face Carver with raised brows. “Should I even ask how that went?”
Carver blew out a breath. “Better than expected, actually. He didn’t stab me.”
“That’s your measure of success?”
“It’s a measure of success.”
His sister snorted. “Good luck.”
Saints, he’d need it.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Elowen asked.
He shook his head.
Elowen pursed her lips, then came over to hug him. “It’s going to turn out all right.”
He tightened his hold on her. “How do you know?”
“Because all the best love stories do.” She eased back. “And you’re a Vincetti. Invictus manemus and all that.”
Unconquered we remain. A line from their family’s creed.
He slowly exhaled. He’d made a mistake in rising to Rix’s bait. He’d been too defensive. He’d do better next time. “Thanks, El.”
“What are sisters for?” She poked him in the ribs. “Don’t answer that with anything sarcastic, or you’ll ruin the moment.”
He grinned. “Wouldn’t dream of it.”
“Carver?”
They both turned to see Amryn standing at the top of the stairs. She looked worried.
Elowen rubbed Carver’s arm, then moved back toward the house. She gave Amryn a smile before going inside, closing the door softly behind her.
Amryn and Carver met at the base of the stairs. Her teeth were buried in her bottom lip.
He slid his thumb over the abused flesh, freeing it. “Everything is fine.”
“Rix didn’t exactly give me that impression.”
He tensed. “Did he say something to you?”
“No.” She eyed Carver. “What happened?”
He released a breath, then told her everything. By the time he finished, deep lines creased her forehead. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I’ll apologize to him.”
“It sounds like he needs to apologize to you.” She cupped his cheek. “I’m sorry. I’ll talk to him.”
It took a considerable amount of willpower to not melt into her touch. Somehow, he kept his focus. “You don’t have to do that. This is between me and Rix.” He brushed a soft kiss against her furrowed brow. “We’ll sort it out. I promise.”
Her fingertips caressed his stubbled jaw. “He was just surprised. He didn’t expect this. Us. Just . . . give him some time?”
Since Carver would do anything for her, it was easy to nod. And when it was time to return to the palace and they all rode back in the same carriage, he didn’t return even one of Rix’s glares.
“No!” The shout tore from Carver as he thrashed in the darkness, sweat coating his body. His chest heaved with ragged breaths. His ears rang. His skin burned. Something was binding his legs—trapping him. He shoved frantically at the constriction, but it wouldn’t be pushed away.
He couldn’t get free. His hands shook. A cry strangled in his raw throat.
“Carver.” A gentle voice. Soft and soothing in the darkness. It was in complete contrast to his sheer panic. “You’re all right,” the soft voice continued. “It was a nightmare. It wasn’t real.”
He blinked rapidly in the darkness. Echoes of remembered pain sliced over his skin.
A nightmare. Not real.
Relief hit with the weight of a boulder. He sucked in air, suddenly dizzy.
The bed dipped. A cool hand touched his bare, trembling shoulder. Another gently peeled back the sheet twisted tightly around his legs until he was blessedly free.
He couldn’t stop shaking. Citrus and mint surrounded him, and he dragged in the familiar scent with every jagged breath.
“You’re all right,” she whispered. “You’re not there. You’re in Craethen. You’re with me, in our room at the palace in Zagrev. You’re safe.”
Amryn. She was here. Real. His.
He didn’t remember moving, but his arms were closing around her. He dragged her into his lap and buried his face in the curve of her shoulder and neck, his entire body shuddering against hers.
If she was startled by the fierceness of his hold, she didn’t show it. She held him just as tightly, her soft voice murmuring soothing words and sounds. Her fingers sifted through his hair like he was a small child in need of comfort.
His fingers only curled more tightly against her, refusing to let her go. He kept her close because he needed her to breathe. Needed to feel her body against his so he knew he wasn’t back there—that this was his reality.
Gradually, his slamming heartbeat slowed. His breathing steadied. He forced the pressure in his grip to loosen so his fingers wouldn’t bruise her. But he did not let go.
Amryn continued to run her fingers through his hair.
He pressed his forehead against her shoulder. His throat felt ravaged, but he managed to whisper, “You didn’t touch me.”
Her fingertips grazed over his scalp. “When I realized you were caught in a nightmare, I slipped from the bed. I just kept calling your name.”
Exactly what he’d asked her to do. And he hadn’t lashed out and hurt her.
Some of the remaining tension left him. “Thank you,” he rasped.
Her mouth was near his ear as she whispered, “Will you tell me about it?”
No. It was his first, unstoppable thought. But shutting her out had never been the answer. It hadn’t spared her from pain. It had caused her pain. And he could not stand the thought of hurting her.