Page 82 of Cages and Crowns
“Well you might have to.” I mutter as I pick at the scrambled eggs.
“Who, though?”
“I cannot choose for you, Scar. One of them is my brother and the other is my cousin.”
“Well she’s not actually your cousin since Viktor isn’t your dad.” I roll my eyes and set my fork down. “I love them both.”
“You love attention.” I retort.
“Yeah, I do.” She sighs and takes a sip of her coffee. I can’t drink it. Anything sweet or syrupy makes me sweat and I know it’s from the drugs Tobias forced me to take.
My heart still clenches when I think of him. I know it isn’t right, I know I shouldn’t feel that way, but I love him. I remember everything he did, I remember the pain, but I also remember the gentleness, the thoughtfulness. It’s hard to separate the two.
I can’t love him.
“How was your night after everything?” Her voice cuts through my thoughts and I look away from the window.
“Uneventful.”
“No secondary consummation?” She jokes, and I narrow my eyes. “Sorry.”
“I don’t foresee anything but name when it comes to our marriage, Scarlett. I can’t. I can’t be close to another.” The door opens and Nithe comes in, sweat dripping from his bare chest.
“You sure about that?” She smirks before rising and brushing past him.
“What?” He asks as he turns back to me.
“Where did you go this morning?” I ask as I pick up my glass of water.
“The sparring room. Enzo and I train every day.”
“I want to train.” He snorts and plops down in the chair Scarlett vacated. He picks up her discarded fork and takes a mouthful of eggs.
“Sure.” He says around his food.
“I’m serious.” I glare at him, but my eyes trail down his bare chest. Thick muscles line the tan skin, flexing with each breath and swallow. The ink swirling around his forearms moves up to his shoulders and down his chest, as if he’s covered head to toe in scales and swirls. It’s beautiful. I tear my eyes away.
“You think that’s wise given your condition?”
“What condition?”
“Your pregnancy?” He says with wide eyes as if he thinks I forgot.
“We don’t know if I am pregnant, Nithe.” I snap and cross my arms.
“I don’t think it’s smart.” He shakes his head and lifts the mug Scarlett left behind. He sniffs it and shrugs before taking a sip.
“I don’t really care what you think.” I retort, rising from my chair. I turn my back to him, stepping into the dressing room. I slip on a pair of leggings and a thin camisole. I step out of the dressing room and slip on a pair of boots I had left by the window.
“What are you doing?”
“Changing.” I furrow my brows.
“For?” He presses.
“Training.” I say with a sigh.
“You can’t just go punch things, Rosie.” He smiles as if the idea of me learning to protect myself is comical.
