44. Prince Cole
Chapter 44
Prince Cole
“To be trusted is a greater
compliment than to be loved.”
— George MacDonald
T ruthfully, I don’t give a damn anymore about Nathaniel and his fate. What really keeps me on edge is the thought of Lorelda finding out about Davina. If she realizes I’m hiding her inside the palace, it’ll end in a bloodbath.
“Why didn’t Davina come with you?”
“Because you told her I have a fiancée?—”
“How many times do I need to tell you I didn’t?”
“I saw the look on her face, Rafe,” I snap. “I believe her.”
“Whatever,” he huffs and leans back in his chair, casual as ever. “You’re being too careless. Lorelda is going to torture you if she finds out?—”
“I’m painfully aware of the stupid shit I’m doing lately. But if it means keeping her safe, I’ll take the torture gladly. I’ll savor every bit of it.”
“Aren’t you concerned Nathaniel will inform Lorelda that Davina is with us once you bring her back?”
“I controlled his mind earlier and then wiped his mind clean so he won’t remember I did. If Lorelda questions him tomorrow when we arrive at the castle, he’ll be convinced Davina’s buried beneath the ground.”
Juliet rushes into my office, wide-eyed, looking like she's seen a ghost. “Davina, she’s?—”
I’m on my feet in an instant, my heart pounding. “What about her?”
“She’s outside, crying?—”
I don’t wait for her to finish. I run into the hall, my pulse racing, and burst through the door into the courtyard.
Davina stands there, body frozen, her nose bleeding and tears streaming down her face. “I—I didn’t know where else to go,” she hiccups, her voice breaking.
I wrap my arms around her waist and tug her close against my chest, placing my chin on her head. “You’re exactly where you need to be.” I pull back and grab her chin, examining her face and brushing her disheveled hair out of her face. “Who hurt you, love? Who did this to you?”
Silence.
“Davina, I asked you who did this,” I press, my voice trembling with unspoken rage. “I need you to tell me who did this.”
“Does it even matter?”
“That’s not what I asked. Try again.”
“Isn’t it obvious?” Her voice is a whisper, her eyes hollow with resignation.
I whirl around, my anger flaring, and I see Juliet and Rafe standing behind me, their expressions grim.
“Take care of her,” I order and storm back inside. Grabbing my sword, I prepare for the bloodshed that will soon follow.
“I am going to kill him.”
She blinks, wiping away tears. “What?”
“Slowly, painfully , and I’ll make him beg for forgiveness just before I take his life.”
“What—”
Rafe huffs out a laugh. “No shit.”
Davina’s eyes widen, and the fact that she still cares about him only adds fuel to my anger.
She grabs my arm, her grip surprisingly strong. “Don’t.”
“Davina—”
“Stay,” she says, her eyes filling with fresh, unshed tears. “Please stay.”
My chest tightens, and as much as I want to stay with her, every instinct inside me screams to tear that bastard limb from limb.
Juliet steps forward, her face hard as stone. “If she wants you to stay, you’ll stay,” she commands, her tone leaving no room for argument.
Rafe crosses his arms, nodding in agreement. “Juliet’s right. You stay.”
“ Please ,” Davina begs, her trembling fingers gripping mine.
Her plea is my undoing.
“Fine,” I say through gritted teeth. “But mark my words, he will pay.”
No one makes her suffer like this and gets away with it.
Davina’s shoulders sag in relief, but the fire in my heart remains, burning hotter than ever at the sight of her suffering.
I take her trembling hand, guiding her back inside. She leans heavily against me, each step unsteady, as if the strength has been drained from her very soul.
“Let’s get you upstairs,” I say softly. “I’ll help you wash that blood off of your face.” When we finally reach the bathroom, I turn on the faucet. “Did you run all the way here?”
She nods, her gaze distant and haunted. I watch as she sinks down onto the edge of the bathtub, letting out an exhausted breath.
I grab a washcloth and dip it in warm water before I kneel beside her, gently cupping her face in my hands. I guide her to look up at me and begin to carefully wash the blood from her nose. “Did you see any Shadows?”
“I saw them, but they didn’t come near me… Why didn’t they attack me?”
“Your necklace.”
Her fingers reach for the pendant, her brows furrowing. “What about it?”
“It has a protection spell on it. Shadows feed on fear and despair, and the necklace covers your fear.”
Her eyes widen in realization. “But you couldn’t have known I would run from your palace and then survive,” she says, confused. “Why…”
I let out a dry laugh, placing a hand over her mouth to stop her from speaking further. “Oh, come on. I knew you’d run away from me as soon as you had the chance, as soon as you got your full power and the possibility to leave. I’m not naive enough to believe otherwise.”
I let my hand drop and begin to comb through her tangled hair.
“So…you wanted to protect me even though you thought I’d abandon you?” she asks, her voice laced with surprise.
“Something like that.”
Her fingers close around my wrist, halting my movements. My gaze shifts from her hand to her face, and I see her beaming at me, leaning in with a look that makes my heart skip a beat.
Is she trying to kiss me?
I gently place a hand on her upper arm, holding her back.
“What’s wrong?” she asks softly.
“This isn’t how I want our first kiss to be,” I admit. “I don’t want it to happen when you’re clearly exhausted and hurt, in such a bad state.”
She blinks at me, her face a mix of confusion and something else I can’t quite place. Her brows furrow, as if trying to piece together my words. “What do you mean?” she asks, looking bewildered. “We already kissed.”
I blink in surprise. “Sweetheart, I’m afraid you’ve got a concussion after all. You need to get some rest.” I gather her hair into a loose ponytail. “I can stay here with you while you’re sleeping.”
She glares at me, looking offended. “Are you trying to be funny? Because if you are, it’s not working.”
“No, I’m not trying to be funny,” I assure her.
Her eyes search mine. “We’ve kissed, Cole.”
“No, we haven’t.” Confusion makes my brows pull in. “Davina, I didn’t kiss you.”
“What?”
My confusion deepens. “I didn’t kiss?—”
“Oh, I heard you loud and clear,” she cuts me off. “You’ve got to be kidding me right now.” She stares at me, her brows knitting together as if trying to remember something that feels out of reach.
“Why would you think I kissed you?”
Her response is a bitter laugh before she spins around and storms off toward her room. “Oh, that didn’t sting at all.”
“Shit, I’m sorry.” I groan, dragging a hand over my face. “You know I didn’t mean it that way. What I’m trying to understand is why you think we’ve kissed when we haven’t.”
“I remember it,” she insists. “It was... it was right before everything went hazy. I—I’m sure of it. You kissed me.”
“Believe me, I would remember.”