Chapter 21
Twenty-One
The sailboat ride back to the castle’s isle is cold and silent. A storm is coming, swallowing the last traces of sunlight in thick, iron-hued clouds. The wind claws through my damp hair, and the tang of salt is thick on my tongue.
Alder doesn’t speak, and neither do I. The rhythmic slap of waves against the hull fills the void between us. The longer we drift in silence, the wider it gets.
By the time we reach the docks, the air is buzzing with electricity, the promise of rain hanging above. I leave Alder to deal with the boat, my feet moving before I’ve fully decided where I’m going.
I just know I need to think, and I can’t do that next to him while pretending I don’t hear Sylvie’s warning circle in my mind, gnawing at the edges of every thought.
If you have any sense, you’ll leave. Return home and forget you ever set foot in Cups.
And you’ll run far away from him.
I know he’s keeping something from me. I know it with the same certainty that I know the tide will rise and fall. That storms will come whether I’m ready or not. There’s something beneath the surface, something he’s not saying.
And I’m going to find out what it is.
I won’t let him control what I know, what I don’t. I need answers. I deserve them.
If we have any chance of salvaging what’s been building between us, any hope of a real relationship, he’ll be honest. He’ll tell me everything. He’ll prove he’s the man he swore he wants to be.
And if he doesn’t? If he lies? Then at least I’ll know for sure we’re done.
I square my shoulders and exhale, shaking off the lingering chill as I make my way through the castle’s winding halls.
I push open the heavy wooden door to our room as thunder rumbles through the castle.
Wind rattles the windows, rain lashes the glass in sideways sheets, and a flash of lightning paints the world white before it vanishes back into shadow.
I sag back against the door—and immediately regret it.
It swings open behind me, and I yelp as I tumble forward with a graceless thud and crash onto my hands and knees.
Boots appear in my periphery. Followed by a familiar voice, low and amused. “If you wanted to be on your knees, all you had to do was ask.”
Alder stands in the doorway, rain-speckled and flushed from the storm. He’s wearing a deep maroon velvet jacket he didn’t have on the boat, and the effect is…infuriatingly distracting.
“Read the room, Alder.” I push myself upright, wincing as my knees protest. “And if you laugh, I’ll make sure you regret it.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.” His lips twitch as he steps into the room and holds out a hand. “We need to go.”
I let him help me to my feet, my brow furrowing. “We just got back.”
He doesn’t hear me—or he doesn’t care. His gaze flicks over my damp dress, the salt still clinging to my skin. “What you’re wearing will work. Not like you have any other options.”
My spine straightens. “Excuse me?”
Before I can object, his hand finds the small of my back, guiding—no, pushing—me out the room and into the hall.
“Look, Alder, we need to talk.”
His exhale is long. “Fine, but not now. Right now, I need you to come with me.”
I cross my arms and plant my feet. “Nice to see we’re back to this again. Guess your good moods don’t last long. Or is this because of what Sylvie said?”
His expression hardens. “I have more important things to do than try and figure out whatever game you’re playing.”
My mouth drops open. “Game? Are you serious?” I laugh, but there’s no humor in it.
Alder curses under his breath, his patience threadbare. “I’m trying to show you something that will change your life forever, but you would rather throw a fit and act like a child.”
Lightning streaks the sky, casting jagged shadows through the corridor as thunder crashes in the distance.
I step to him, toe-to-toe, and tilt my chin up to meet his narrowed gaze. “I’m not acting like a child. I’m just done with your bullshit. You can’t yank me around like I’m wearing one of those little leash backpacks.”
“You don’t need a leash, sweetheart. You’ve always followed me willingly.”
My retort rises fast—something vicious and biting, something that would feel good in the moment. But I choke it down. This isn’t about scoring points. This isn’t about name-calling or shouting until one of us folds. The fight that’s coming matters more than that.
“Unless this thing you’re dragging me to can get me home, I don’t care. I don’t want to see it. I don’t need my life to be forever changed. That’s already happened. I need it to go back.”
His breath hisses out between clenched teeth. “You don’t know the things I’ve done. The things I’m doing to make sure this kingdom survives. To make sure—”
“This kingdom?” I shake my head, my voice rising over the wind that batters the castle and rattles the windows in their iron frames. “I get there are things here that need to be dealt with, but this isn’t our home!”
Lightning flashes again, illuminating his face in a harsh silver glow. His jaw flexes. His fists clench.
“For fuck’s sake, Gemma, you’re still doing it,” he snarls. “Still clinging to that naive little fantasy where everything works itself out. You think if you just run away from it, it’ll fix itself.”
My brow furrows. “What are you talking about?”
“This is your Manhattan move all over again. Running like that solved nothing. You thought leaving me was the answer, but it was the worst decision you could’ve made—and you know it.”
Something cold settles in my chest. “You think I regret leaving you?”
“You should,” he spits. “I had to fix it. I had to. Because you don’t know what’s best for you, Gemma. You never have.”
My stomach drops.
“When do I get a break? When is it my turn to be done cleaning up your fucking messes?” He laughs, low and bitter. “This small-town, homegrown, sweet-Caroline romance bullshit is not worth it. No matter what my PR team says about making you come back being the smart risk.”
The cold in my chest turns to ice.
I blink once, twice—and then it clicks. The missing piece. The thread I tugged but never followed.
“Oh my God.” My voice is quiet. “You sabotaged my career.”
He says nothing. But he doesn’t need to.
The moment when he parroted the exact words the publisher used when they let me go—words I never repeated out loud, not to anyone, not even Amanda—I should’ve known immediately. I would’ve had I not been distracted by this…world. Wherever it is we are.
He knew. He’s always known—because he orchestrated it. Because the moment I walked away from him for good, he made sure I had nowhere else to run.
“You left me,” he growls. “What did you think was going to happen? That I’d just sit back while you made a mess of everything I built?”
Rage crashes through me. Hot and immediate. My chest caves around it, my heart a live wire sparking behind my ribs.
“You’re unbelievable,” I spit. “You lied to me. Manipulated me. And now you’re standing here justifying it? Do you have any idea what my career meant to me?”
His jaw clenches.
“You ruined my life,” I yell, the words ripping out of me. “You’ve been the villain in my story this whole time—and I didn’t even know it.”
And before I can take another breath, he grabs me.
His fingers clamp around my wrist. Heat sears through the fabric of my sleeve. His face is inches from mine, eyes wild and furious, mouth twisted.
“You are so fucking delusional,” he hisses.
“You think I did this because I have some evil agenda? I did what I had to. You were destroying everything and were too ignorant see it. And then I tried to save you. I tried to give you a soft landing. But you’re too damn proud, or, I don’t know, too fucking stupid to comprehend the reality of our situation. ”
“Let me go, Alder,” I grind out, wrenching against his hold.
Wind howls down the corridor. Thunder shakes the windows. My heart thrums hard and fast, my breathing shallow as I strain to free myself.
“Stop fighting me,” he growls, his other hand latching onto my arm.
“Then stop forcing me!” I shout, fury rising like a tidal wave.
Something cracks. Not in the storm. Not in the stone. In him.
Alder stills. He looks at me then, really looks at me, and whatever rage had consumed him drains in an instant. His grip loosens and his hands fall away.
I stumble back, chest heaving, my wrist throbbing from the pressure of his fingers.
He shakes his head, a hollow laugh breaking free. The storm howls outside, lightning flashing again, catching in his golden hair like a crown of fire.
“It’s not just the fake romance PR stunt bullshit that isn’t worth it.” His voice drops, quiet and cruel. “It’s you, Gemma. You’re not worth it.”
The words cut like glass.
I take a shaky breath and force myself to meet his eyes. My vision blurs, but I refuse to look away. Refuse to cry any more tears because of him.
“How can you say that?” My voice fractures. “After everything we’ve been through. Was it all an act?” My throat tightens, but I force the words out. “This version of you—you’re breaking my heart.” I shake my head, blinking hard. “What happened to you?”
He turns halfway, spine rigid, hands flexing at his sides. Then, through gritted teeth, he snarls, “You happened to me.”
Alder walks away, boots echoing down the corridor like distant thunder. Before he disappears around the corner, he glances back over his shoulder.
“If you still want answers…” A pause. A muscle ticks in his jaw. “Come to the chapel.”
He doesn’t wait for a response. Doesn’t look back again.
And just like that, the storm isn’t only outside anymore.