Total pages in book: 101
Estimated words: 94782 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94782 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 474(@200wpm)___ 379(@250wpm)___ 316(@300wpm)
“Then let me in,” I beg. “Trust me enough to tell me something real. Give me a chance to prove that I won’t betray you.”
“Something real?” His throat works. “What does the fire-breathing goddess want to know?”
I tap my fingers against his chest, working up the courage to say the thing that might provoke him the most. But he’s just drunk enough, and tired enough, and well fucked enough that I think he might finally tell me.
“Who hurt you?”
A cold laugh reverberates from his cavernous chest, and he shakes his head, eyes empty. “Nobody, Ella. I was lucky.”
“Lucky how?” I ask.
“Lucky enough to have a woman teach me the ways of being a man. Her lessons were thorough, and it turns out you can cure a speech impediment with savagery.”
My stomach churns as I start to make sense of his words, and my lips are so dry, I have to lick them before I can form words again. “How old were you?”
“Ten.”
I barely hear him. He’s drifting away, falling asleep, and I can’t let him go.
“Thor.” I smooth my fingers along his pinched brows, and he opens his eyes again. When he sees the despair in mine, he shifts beneath me, his muscles tightening.
“I was joking.”
“No, you weren’t.” My voice shakes, and the floodgates of my emotions crash open before I can contain them. The image of him as a child, abused in that way, cuts me so deep it feels as if I’ll bleed to death right here. A trail of tears begins to fall down my cheeks, my heart splintering as I grieve for him.
I’m wrecked, and I can’t hide it. Thorsen doesn’t know what to do, and that’s painstakingly obvious when he tries to comfort me. His palm comes to rest on my lower back, and it only makes it worse because I should be comforting him.
“I lied,” he says again. “It isn’t true.”
“It is true.” I touch his beautiful face. “I heard you. I’ve been listening all along, so don’t deny it. Not to me.”
He buries his face in my neck and nods against me, and for the longest time, we just sit there, wrapped up in each other. His confession feels significant because he opened up to me, and I don’t think Thorsen has opened up to anyone in a very long time. But the war isn’t over, and in many ways, I sense it’s just beginning.
“Let’s go to bed,” he murmurs, rising to his feet as I cling to his body.
He pulls up his pants and covers me with my robe, and then carries me through the house to his bedroom. After he drapes my body onto the center of the bed, he kicks off his shoes and crawls in behind me, tucking me against him.
“Just for tonight,” he whispers into my hair.
“Tonight,” I whisper back. And every day for the rest of our lives, if I have anything to say about it.
27
Thorsen
“How is she?” I ask.
Calder takes a sip of his coffee and nods upstairs. “She’s awake now and well aware of her surroundings. She asked about you twenty minutes ago.”
“You should go get some sleep,” I tell him.
“I’ll stay a while longer if that’s okay with you.”
I nod, and we walk together to our mother’s suite. I’m not sure what to expect, but when we enter, she’s propped up in her bed, and it appears she’s rebounded dramatically from yesterday.
“Thorsen,” she rasps. “There you are.”
I take a seat beside her, and Calder pulls another chair from across the room to join us.
“How are you feeling?” I examine her with blurry eyes.
“Better today,” she says. “These medications make me so loopy it’s difficult to know what’s going on anymore. I told Astrid I didn’t want to take anything until you came today.”
“You should take your meds. I’m not going anywhere for a while.”
“Did you clear your schedule?” She frowns.
“Yes.” Much to my secretary’s annoyance. I don’t doubt the king will have something to say about it as well.
“Aunt Runa is on the way,” Calder informs us. “She’ll be here this afternoon.”
A bleak acceptance passes over our mother’s face. She’s aware that we’re assembling the troops for a reason.
“You boys have always been so protective of me,” she whispers. “Are you afraid for me, my dear sons? Is that why you’re standing guard at my bedside?”
Calder and I glance at each other, and Mother laughs.
“It’s okay. I may have brain cancer, but I’m not brain dead. Not yet, anyway. I know what’s going on here.”
“You do?” Calder stiffens beside me.
“Your father has always been a restless man. He doesn’t have the patience to deal with something like this. He’s found comfort where he can, I suppose, as he has many times over the years. I’ve made peace with that.”
“We didn’t think you knew,” Calder says quietly.