Page 68 of The Sound of Seduction
“It is,” she said, her words quiet but steady. “It is, Nick.”
And though his frown didn’t disappear entirely, there was a moment—a flicker in his gaze—that softened. Behind him, Alfie sighed audibly, and Andre glanced at the ceiling as if to consult the heavens.
Still, Felix didn’t move from where he stood in front of her, unmoving, unflinching. Because he’d always been there when she needed him most, even the day when her parents died. And this moment, she knew, would be no different.
Stan’s presence pulled at her like the irresistible tug of the tide. The room, crowded as it was with furious faces and Felix’s unyielding calm, fell away as her gaze locked onto his. He stood frozen in the doorway, one hand gripping the frame as though to steady himself, his weight shifting nervously from foot to foot. He wasn’t like the others—he wasn’t storming, demanding, or scowling. He simply was there, and somehow that was enough to undo her completely.
Her breath hitched as her eyes drank him in—every detail vivid and devastating. The faint flush high on his cheekbones betrayed the battle inside him, though he tried to school his expression into something neutral. His golden-brown hair was tousled and he didn’t seem as regal, more boyish. Vulnerable. But his eyes—oh, his eyes—were what unraveled her. They held hers in rapt attention, wide and searching, asking questions with no words. Questions she wasn’t sure she could answer yet, but couldn’t look away from.
And then it struck her, the cruel poetry of it all. Here he stood, at the edge of her chaos but entirely inside her heart, closer than anyone else despite the distance he kept. He hadn’t moved toward her. He hadn’t demanded anything of her. He was simply present, steady in a world that felt like it was tiltingsideways. And he hadn’t left. Not when it might’ve been easier. Not when it would’ve been safer for him, considering Nick’s overprotective fury.
“I’m in love with him.” she said. “I love Prince Stan.”
*
Stan froze, hisgrip on the doorframe the only thing anchoring him to the spinning world. Her voice should not have sounded like that—not so soft, not so deliberate. Certainly not shaped around his name as if it carried every ounce of her heart.
His name.
That alone sent his chest into turmoil, but her eyes—those sharp, fiercely intelligent eyes—were fixed only on him. The weight of her gaze pinned him in place. He should have braced himself, prepared for whatever storm flew from her lips next. But he hadn’t prepared for this.
Not for her words. Not for the way it felt.
Wendy loved him.
The thought landed hard in his chest, knocking the breath clean from his lungs. Wendy, the quick-witted, bold, maddening Wendy—a woman who could stare down her brothers’ tempers, care for the sick with hands steadier than his own, and make him spin out of orbit with a single look—loved him?
His heart stammered against his ribs like it wanted to escape, but his feet refused to obey.
Her voice reached him again, trembling but sure. “You stayed.”
It landed like a vow.
Nick, Alfie, Andre, and Felix turned toward him in unison, without a word, and yet there was shuffling in the room.
The words struck him, not a blow but a weight that shifted his footing in some irreversible way.
“Of course, I stayed.” He might’ve been standing on the threshold now, practically wrapped in shadows while she stood framed by light, but his heart had long since crossed the divide to her side. It had done so quietly, without fanfare, yet…she had noticed. Sheknew.
He’d already told her how he felt.
How long he’d felt like that for her.
It seemed like forever for it was as though his heart had been made only for her.
His throat worked as he swallowed, but his voice—when he finally found it—emerged frayed and uneven. “I thought…” Another pause, the crack in his tone exposing the parts of himself he had always tried to keep hidden. He cleared his throat, but there was no salvaging this. “I thought maybe you’d need me.” Her shoulders dropped, a fleeting but unmistakable sign of relief. It unraveled the last knot of doubt curling stubbornly in his gut. “You do, don’t you?”
The question escaped before his mind could weigh it, his voice softer this time, slipping into uncharted waters of its own accord. Vulnerability. Hope. All of it bound together in one fragile plea.
Her answer came as an exhale, a single word so delicate it could’ve shattered in the air. “Yes.”
Stan’s pulse thundered as Wendy stepped toward him, her features haloed by the soft glow of golden light spilling from the room. Shadows danced across her face, but her beauty wasn’t dimmed—it was sharpened, undeniable. His throat tightened at the shimmer of tears on her cheeks, the way they accentuated the quiet strength she radiated. She seemed like something out of a dream, otherworldly yet entirely real, heading straight for him. How could he do anything but hold his ground?
But the room, of course, refused to grant them peace.
“Wendy!” Nick barked, his voice cracking through the tension like the snap of a tree branch in winter. “This is absurd! You can’t truly be considering this mad life of his! He’s the target of the evil baron and if he doesn’t catch the uncatchable man, he could be caught in a war.”
Stan’s jaw flexed. His temper simmered just below the surface, but he pressed it down. Nick’s fury wasn’t unexpected; in fact, he’d prepared for it… though it didn’t mean it was less irritating. He squared his shoulders but didn’t release Wendy’s gaze, even as Nick approached, his boots landing emphatically.
