Chapter 60
Chapter
Sixty
HAVEN
“Grayson, leave now.” I wanted him out of my bedroom, plus there was a very real chance Remy would kill him when I explained the scars on my back. Or I could kill him; that might be more satisfying.
He crossed his arms. “You don’t give the orders.”
Remy or I—one of us would have his blood on our hands if he kept testing my patience. With a deep breath to steady myself, I forced calm into my voice. “Grayson, leave now, please.”
“No.”
“Fine. Have it your way.” I glanced at Remy. His face was still pale—my scarred back had left an impression. “The guard took me from my grandmother’s home.”
Grayson snorted. “You shouldn’t have been there to begin with. You’re a shield. It was your duty to serve Legacia as soon as you turned fifteen.”
Now that I knew how the guard treated fifteen-year-olds, I was even more grateful to Grandmother for protecting me. I glared at him. “So guards could ground me under their heels?”
He had the grace to look slightly uncomfortable. “We had to take you. That kind of power?” He rubbed his hand across his mouth. “Besides, you killed Wolgen Smit.”
Remy’s brows rose. “Smit is dead?”
“How do you know Smit?” Grayson’s eyes narrowed to slits.
“We know about everyone on the king’s council. Smit was a nasty piece of work.” Remy offered me a proud smile. “How did you kill him?”
“It wasn’t on purpose. His death magic rebounded.”
Remy’s brows lifted. “What happened after he died?”
“Grayson’s quad took me to their garrison. On my first morning there, another guard, Drake, accosted me.”
Remy’s eyes narrowed. “Accosted you how?”
“He demanded I suck his cock. When I refused, he decided to teach me a lesson.”
Remy’s gaze slid to Grayson. “What were you doing when this happened?”
Grayson flushed and remained silent.
“Drinking coffee.” I waved off Grayson’s vile indifference, not because I forgave him—I didn’t—but because I’d seen enough death lately. “At any rate, I defended myself.”
Grayson’s jaw worked, but he said nothing.
Remy pressed his fingertips against his temples. “How? What did you do?”
“I kicked him in the balls.”
“Atta girl.” Remy’s grin sent butterflies careening through my stomach.
Men shouldn’t be allowed to smile with that much warmth—it was too distracting. He was proud of me for kicking Drake’s ass. I basked in the glow of his approval, standing a little taller.
His eyes met mine. “What happened next?”
I shrugged, trying to downplay what followed. “I embarrassed a member of the guard. The punishment was twenty lashes.”
Remy’s smile vanished, and his hand tightened around the hilt of his sword until his knuckles blanched. “Who whipped you?” Darkness seemed to surround him, and he looked like a man ready to commit murder. For me.
That should be terrifying. I found it romantic. “The man I kicked, Drake. Then Carron.”
Remy turned on Grayson. “You were there? You let that happen?”
I was fairly sure Grayson wanted to bark, “Enough talking,” and walk away. Instead, he raked his fingers through his hair. “If we hadn’t let Drake whip her, Carron would have killed her.”
“We’ve heard of you, Gunn Grayson. Even in Rymar, you’re known as the leader of the strongest quad in centuries. You couldn’t protect one woman?”
“She broke the rules.”
“She protected herself. What choice did she have? You sure as hell weren’t helping her.”
Grayson retreated a half step, almost as if Remy had slapped him. “You don’t understand.”
“Oh, I understand.” Remy’s expression turned vicious. “Your career meant more to you than Haven’s life. What happened next, Haven? Why are two scars worse than the rest?”
“Carron poisoned me.” I kept my voice flat, hoping to give him the facts without escalating the emotions already swirling around us.
“What?” The sharpness of Remy’s voice told me I’d failed. “You were accosted, whipped, and poisoned? What next?”
“They put me in the pit for a week.”
Remy pinched the bridge of his nose. “The pit?”
“Like being at the bottom of a stone well without light or water.”
His gaze settled on me, searching, like he was reassuring himself I was okay. “How did you survive?”
“I’m not without talents.”
He nodded, unsurprised by my resourcefulness. “Did they know about these talents?”
“No.”
“So they put you in there to die, afraid and alone?”
“I suppose.” I was intimately familiar with the story. Dwelling on its horrors did me no good. Dwelling on its horrors might get Grayson killed, and despite the occasional homicidal inclination, I didn’t want him dead.
“The others?”
Grayson puffed his broad chest. “They didn’t know she was theirs. I didn’t know.”
“Doesn’t matter. You were guards. Your job was to protect. You don’t deserve to breathe the same air as Haven.”
“As guards, we protect Legacia.” Grayson drew himself up to his full, annoyingly impressive height. “Not individuals.”
If I was reading the thunderous expression on Remy’s face correctly, Grayson was lucky to still be alive. “Given how Legacia treats women, it doesn’t deserve protection.”
Grayson rolled his eyes at Remy’s excellent point. “I just saved Haven from an assassin.”
“Knowing Haven, she would have saved herself without you. You just sped up her victory.”
A soft gasp from the doorway made us all turn. An older woman stood in the hallway, her hands pressed against her chest. Silver threads glimmered in her dark hair, and time had marked its passage on her pretty face. But her eyes … They were the same color as Grayson’s and filled with tears.
The desperate longing and pain in those eyes made my breath catch.
Grayson went perfectly still, his face draining of all color as he stared back at her.
“Gunn?” Her voice was barely a whisper.
Grayson stood mute, apparently unable to speak.
The woman winced, lowering her gaze. When she lifted her head, she dropped a small curtsy. “Your Highness.”
“Marian, allow me to present Haven Ford.”
The woman dropped a second curtsy without actually looking at me; her gaze had returned to Grayson. “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Miss Ford.”
“Likewise.” May had used Grayson’s mother’s name. Marian. This woman with her heart in her eyes had to be his mother. She’d been abused, and he’d betrayed her to his father. But I saw no anger in her gaze, only love and hope.
“Gunn.” One word filled with aching need and regret.
A moment’s raw vulnerability flickered across Grayson’s face—then his features hardened into a mask. “What are you doing here?” His words snapped, harsh and brittle.
“You will address the women in my court with respect.”
Marian’s hands fluttered near her skirts. “It’s all right, Your Highness. He learned from his father.”
“Who else was there to teach me? You left.”
“I begged you to come with us.” She was stating a fact, not defending herself.
Grayson sneered.
“Your father promised you a bright future. You wanted to stay with him. I understood. I forgave you.”
“You forgave me?” Grayson sounded disbelieving. “You left your only son.”
“I saved my daughter. And myself. I won’t apologize for that.”
“You left me.”
Remy’s jaw tightened at Grayson’s tone, but he held his tongue.
Not me. How could one man be so stupid? “Get your head out of your ass. He beat her. He beat your sister.”
“I was ten, and she left me.”
“I’ve spent my life caring for victims. Abuse escalates. A slap becomes a punch. A punch becomes a broken bone. A broken bone becomes a corpse.”
“You’re being dramatic.”
“You think I’m being dramatic?” I stepped closer, fury making my voice shake.
“Drake assaulted me, and every single one of you just … sat there. Drinking coffee.” I jabbed my finger into his chest. “I defended myself from a rapist, and you let them whip me for it. You stood by and watched them poison me. You let them throw me in a pit to die.” My voice cracked.
“That’s how it works, Grayson. It’s not the monsters who destroy us—it’s the good men who do nothing.
Your father beat your mother, and I guarantee no one ever tried to stop him.
” Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Marian flinch.
I had plenty more to say about her sorry excuse for a husband, but I couldn’t do that to her.
The woman had endured enough trauma without my dredging it up. “Just like no one stopped Drake.”
Remy shifted slightly, moving closer and reaching for my hand.
I glanced up at him, grateful he was beside me, and then turned back to Grayson. “That’s your precious Legacia, the nation you fight for, a place where women have no worth.”
He stared at me coldly.
“Your mother ran because she had no other option. How dare you blame her?” I took a step closer and jabbed him again, hard enough to bend my knuckle backward. “Then you made it worse by becoming part of the problem.”
“I have never raised my hand against a woman.”
“Have you ever raised your hand to help one?”
The question hung in the air. Grayson stared at me, and for a heartbeat, I saw something raw in his eyes—shame, maybe, or recognition. Then his stony mask slipped into place.
“That’s what I figured.” Scorn laced my voice. “Now, for the love of the gods, would you please leave?”