Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 100553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100553 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
“It’s one of the reasons I revere her. She’s a good leader. My father would be proud if he could see how far she’s come, everything she’s defeated to be where she is now. She never stopped to pity herself. She never broke down in tears. She just kept going…and she’s still going.”
Her arms crossed over her chest, and she turned quiet, her eyes on the fire, her tears dry. “Do you think I could talk to Elora?”
“Why?”
“I know you said we aren’t family, but we are…”
“Your only connection is your father, and I don’t think that’s enough reason to kindle a relationship.”
She turned to me. “Why don’t you want me to talk to her?”
“Because I don’t.”
She held my gaze, the disappointment on the surface of her eyes. “I’m sure she’s curious—”
“The answer is no.”
“I think she deserves to make this decision herself. She doesn’t need a man to do it for her.”
“I’m not a controlling jackass—”
“Then ask her.”
I felt my teeth grind when I clenched my jaw.
“If she says no…I’ll understand.”
I turned away and looked at the fire. My hand grabbed the glass, and I tilted my head back as I downed everything in a single swallow.
It was the only time we’d slept side by side and didn’t fuck.
I could tell she wasn’t in the mood. Otherwise, her hands would trail down my stomach underneath the sheet while her lips pressed kisses to my shoulder. She always had this look in her eye too, a low-burning fire that warmed the entire room.
Now, she was cold.
We faced each other, sharing a single pillow, her leg hiked over my hip. The sheets were at our shoulders, and her palm was flat against my chest as if feeling my heartbeat. Her eyes were closed at the moment, her eyelashes down over her cheeks.
Normally, I’d be hard as a rock right now with her looking like that, beautiful in the dying light of the fire. But I didn’t feel anything for her, not when I knew her chest was a void at the moment.
Not when I could feel her sadness.
She must have felt my stare because her eyelashes lifted, and she met my look.
My fingers automatically dove into her hair, pushing it back from her face as I touched the soft strands. They dropped to her shoulder a moment later, the rough pads of my fingertips feeling her rose-petal skin.
“Does she know about us?”
I gave a slight nod.
“How does she feel about that?”
“The same way everyone else does.”
She didn’t look surprised but a little hurt. “Then why do you keep doing this?”
My mother was disappointed in me. I could feel it in her stare, in the hostility that surrounded her. I could feel Ian’s disapproval. I could feel Elora’s judgment. This was stupid—plain and simple. “Because I can’t stop.”
NINETEEN
Ivory
I was numb.
Even the next day, I still felt that way.
Heartbreak. Betrayal. Hatred. I felt it all.
Up until this point, I’d never confronted Huntley’s accusation. I put it to the back of my mind and forgot about it.
But looking at Elora’s face, I had no choice but to accept the horrible truth.
There was no benefit of the doubt anymore.
Fuck.
Huntley left in the morning and didn’t wake me up before he was gone. I had no idea when he would be back, but I was in no mood to explore HeartHolme or do anything else except imagine the conversation I would have with Ryker…if I ever saw him again.
He wouldn’t believe me. Of course he wouldn’t. I hadn’t believed it either.
Not unless he saw Elora in the flesh.
The door opened and closed downstairs, and I knew he was home.
Home…or whatever this place was.
His voice emerged from downstairs. “Come here.”
“Hello to you too,” I called back.
“Ivory.” His voice deepened with annoyance.
He hardly ever said my name, so it was weird whenever I heard it. “Baby” had become a second skin, an identity I wrapped around myself like a thick blanket. I headed downstairs and saw him standing near the couches.
That was when I spotted her—Elora.
I paused on the staircase with my hand on the banister as I looked at her. I overcame the surprise and continued.
She was on the armchair, her dark hair pulled off her face, tied in an elastic cloth, her similar features on display.
I walked right past Huntley like he wasn’t even there because she was all I cared about in that moment. I took a seat in the other armchair and looked at her, knowing her curiosity would be too much to ignore.
Huntley stared at us for a while before he walked up the stairs and gave us our privacy.
My eyes were on hers, seeing the same green eyes that I possessed, the ones we’d both inherited from our father. I could see Huntley’s mother in her face as well, the way her features would naturally set in a tense fashion, the way her mind seemed to be working constantly.