Page 72 of Shameless Royalty

His green eyes snap to mine, burning with something furious—something desperate.

“Yes, it fuckin’ will,” he growls.

I scoff, tears slipping free before I can stop them. “How? You’re not thinkin’ past right now. You’re not thinkin’ aboutwhat happens when your father figures this out. Or when mine does.” I wipe angrily at my face, my breathing uneven. “And even if somehow—somehow—we got past that, what then? You think I’m just gonna stay here, locked in your family’s fuckin’ estate like some pet you’ve decided to keep?”

Connor flinches, but he doesn’t let go of me. So I press forward, my voice shaking with anger and grief I don’t even know what to do with. “You think I can be with you and not resent you for this? You think I can just… pretend that I don’t hate the fact that I’m here?”

Connor’s nostrils flare. “You don’t hate me.”

I let out a short, broken laugh. “You don’t fuckin’ know what I feel.”

His grip tightens like he’s afraid I’ll slip through his fingers. “Yes, I fuckin’ do.”

“You want to own me, Connor,” I suck in a breath. “But I can’t be yours.”

His entire body tenses. His breathing is sharp, his fingers digging into my waist like he’s trying to anchor me to him. “You are mine.” His voice is low, raw and desperate.

I close my eyes, trying to swallow the ache in my chest. “Not in the way that matters.”

A heavy silence stretches between us. My breathing is uneven, tears hot against my cheeks and my hands still trembling where they grip the blanket.

Connor stares at me, his jaw is tight, and for the first time, he looks lost.

Then he moves. In one swift motion, he grabs me, yanking me back against him.

“You. Are.Mine,” he snarls into my ear, his breath hot, furious. “And I don’t give a fuck what my father thinks. I don’t give a fuck about this goddamn war between our families. I don’t give a fuck about any of it.”

I struggle against him, fresh tears slipping down my face. “You should care! It’s our reality! We can’t just—”

His grip tightens, his voice lowering to something dangerous. “I will burn this world to the ground before I let anyone take you from me.”

My breath catches, and Connor buries his face in my neck, his breathing heavy, his arms unbreakable around me. “Tell me you don’t want me,” he rasps. “Tell me you don’t need me, and I’ll let you go.”

I squeeze my eyes shut, my whole body shaking. “Connor—”

“Say it.” His voice breaks and he pulls back. “Look me in the eye and say it.”

I open my mouth, but the words won’t come. Because they’re not true, and we both fucking know it. My chest is so fucking tight I can barely breathe, my entire body trembling as I try to process what’s happening, what he’s saying, what he’s offering.

Because that’s what this is—an offer. A promise. A fucking declaration.

But I can’t take it.

I can’t accept it.

If I do, it means I’m choosing this. Choosinghim.

I let out a shaky breath, my fingers digging into his arms, my body betraying me by seeking his warmth, his touch, even as my mind screams at me to fucking run.

A sob rips from my throat before I can stop it. It’s raw, fucking ugly, and I hate the way it makes my chest cave in; the way it makes me feel like I’m breaking in his arms.

Connor doesn’t let go.

He tightens his grip, his hold unrelenting like he’s trying to physically keep me together because I sure as fuck can’t do it myself.

“I—” I choke, my fingers curling into his shirt. “I’m sorry.”

He pulls back just enough to look at me, his green eyes flickering with something softer now. “Whatever for?”

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