“Stop,” I say, pushing back from his touch. “You’re not listening to me. I wasn’t here. I was nowhere near your room.”
“You don’t need to feel embarrassed.”
Embarrassed? Heat floods my face from pure, unfiltered anger. I step farther away, putting cold distance between us where moments ago there was only fire.
I cross my arms in a huff. “What’re you talking about? I’m not embarrassed about anything. Is this why you called me here? To accuse me of something I didn’t do?”
“Not accuse you. I just wanted to talk about last night.”
“I wasn’t here!”
He frowns. No softness. Just that clinical confirmation that shatters whatever remained of the momentwe’d shared.
“I’m not doing this.” I turn toward the door, my spine rigid. “If you don’t need to tell me something about our plans, good night.”
“Aurelia—” He reaches for me, but I’m already moving, already fleeing this room that suddenly feels like a trap.
Tears blur my vision as I slip into the hallway, but I refuse to let them fall until I’m safely away from his sight. I hurry through the mansion, but halfway to my room, my pace falters.
Why wasn’t Adrian listening to me?
His dismissal hurts. He was so certain that I was there last night. And the way he looked at me, like I was lying to his face. My feet slow to a stop in an empty corridor. What does he think I did? The word “enthusiastic” echoes in my mind, twisting my stomach into knots.
I should’ve demanded answers. Ishouldhave stayed and fought through his dismissal instead of letting my temper drive me away. My fatal flaw strikes again: helpful for revenge, catastrophic for love.
I’m so damn irritated, but the irritation begins to morph into dread.Whydid Adrian think I was in his room? Was it medication? God knows what they’re giving him for the pain. Hallucinations aren’t uncommon with certain drugs, especially in combination with trauma and stress.
Or… was someone really in his room?
My stomach drops like I’ve stepped off a cliff. Someone could’ve entered Adrian’s room. And what exactly did they do to him while he thought it was me?
I pivot on my heel. The smart move is to return to myroom since I’m out of time and guards will be returning to watch Adrian. But what if someone really assaulted him? Someone who wanted him to think it was me. The thought makes my skin crawl and I just have to go back to him to talk.
My bare feet whisper against marble as I retrace my steps. God, this feels stupid but…
I duck into an alcove as footsteps echo up ahead. Two guards pass, their conversation casual. Thankfully, they don’t notice me. My heart is pounding and I’m shaking from adrenaline, but they continue on. I quickly dart away.
Three more corridors. Two more turns. I can make it. Maybe the guards that are always in front of Adrian’s door won’t be there yet.
Another set of guards appears at the intersection ahead. I slip behind a massive marble column, holding my breath as they pause directly in my path. One checks his watch. The other yawns. Neither moves.
Come on. Move!
Precious seconds tick by. I need to reach Adrian before?—
Someone grabs my arm and covers my mouth before I can yelp.
“Quiet,” the voice hisses, and I recognize it’s Valentine. “Come on,” he whispers and pulls me around a corner.
He releases me and I frown at him. “What’re you doing?” I say in a hushed voice.
“Stopping you before you do something stupid.”
“I-I need to talk to him again. I didn’t?—”
“You can’t. I’m sorry but the guards are back on their normal patrol. You’re lucky I was watching a private feed and saw you sneaking around. If you get caught, it’ll jeopardize everything. So take a moment andthink.”
My jaw pulses. “You don’t understand. I think someone’s playing games?—”