Page 228 of The Throne Seeker
Rose recoiled at the raw animosity. Deep down, she felt pity for what Satin had gone through. Just as she had made Tristan marry Satin, she’d made Satin marry him. Holding on to such deep resentment would be a heavy burden—with a child, no less. So she did her best not to hold it against her, but that didn’t mean she’d stick around to let Satin demean her.
Rose was about to leave when another voice intervened.
“Satin,” Tristan said, cutting in. His expression was stern, making it clear he’d heard. “You’ve been up and about a lot this evening. Perhaps we should sit down.”
Satin folded her arms. “I’ve had enough. I’m going to bed.”
“I could come with you,” Tristan offered, stepping towards her.
But Satin pulled back. “No. I don’t want to be anywhere near you—eitherof you.” With that, she strode away, clutching her stomach with tenderness.
Rose waited until Satin was well out of earshot before she spoke. “Tell me it’s not true,” she whispered. “Tell me you didn’t call out my name on your wedding night.”
Tristan’s eyes darted to hers as surprise filled them. His silence and crestfallen expression gave her all the answers she needed.
Her siren gloated on the inside. The fact made her mouth go rancid, repressing the disgusting feeling.
“No wonder she hates me so much,” she muttered to herself.
“I was drunk out of my mind,” Tristan admitted. “I should never have slept with her, but she wanted it so badly. And I felt guilty I even agreed to marry her at all… I often wonder what our marriage would be like now if I had just managed to keep your name off my lips.”
Rose didn’t know what else to say except, “I’m sorry.”
He shook his head at once. “You don’t need to apologize… but you could dance with me.” He stuck an arm out, his dazzling blue eyes shining at her.
She would’ve refused him if it weren’t for the men lurking to catch her alone. And to her annoyance, Roman was still occupied with Beth, both in a heated conversation now. Her siren’s blood boiled at how Beth held his face in her hands. Rose fought the urge to go and take a handful of Beth’s hair and?—
She faced Tristan, shoving down the horrible thoughts. “Alright.” She took his hand, letting him lead her to the middle of the room.
He twirled her playfully before pulling her into his arms as a small smile played on his lips. That smile was a stab to her heart.
A reminder of what could have been.
“I haven’t had a chance to thank you,” Tristan said, “for what you did for my mother, I know she didn’t make your life easy. And to sing like that… it was an incredible gift.”
She gave him a small, gracious smile. “Of course.”
Silence fell over them for a few bars before Tristan leaned in closer. “You look incredible,” he said, his voice tender. “It reminds me of how you looked the night we camped on the beach.” His lips lifted into a reminiscent grin. “Do you remember?”
A smile slipped out despite herself. “You mean when you set up the tent too close to the shore and it nearly took us both out to sea? I was scared out of my mind, but for some reason I could only laugh when we got back inside. I’m sure we looked like drowned rats scurrying back to a hovel.”
Tristan let out a harsh laugh. “And then I walked you back to your room… It was the first time I kissed you.” His eyes lowered to her lips.
Without warning, she was flooded with a vision of the memory.
She was standing as close as they were now. Her heart beating out of her rib cage as she stood in the dark corridor with water dripping off her dress onto the stone floor, waiting for him to close the gap. He slipped his hand into hers, lowering his lips, and worshiped hers for the first time.
She was thrust back into the present just as her siren began to rise to the surface, urging her to close the space between them like they had then. To feel his skin on hers. Let him take her back to his roo?—
She immediately slammed an invisible wall down, fleeing from the lust.
Tristan, however, picked up on the subtle change, knowing her all too well. “You still feel something for me,” he whispered as he searched her face. “I can see it in your eyes.”
“Stop it,” she snapped, not liking the insinuation.
His eyes hardened. “What, I’m the only one who can’t look at you like that? You think Xavier looks at you any differently?”
She returned his glare with full force. “He isn’t married. You are.”
