Page 13 of Christmas With The Kings
Every detail was chosen with care, with deep and real meaning. The advent calendars weren’t only cheeky or sexy—they were intimate. Personal. They were built around the pieces of them I’d come to know so well. Each joke, each seductive surprise, each handmade note was another way of saying:I love you.
And still…it hadn’t been enough to spark even a flicker of excitement.
Poor Isabella had even had to endure my slump, her usual sarcasm button on mute for the time being. She’d tried, in her own way, to lift my spirits—offering to help me shop, suggesting we take another crack at wrapping gifts together. But her heart wasn’t in it, and I didn’t fault her for that. She wasn’t wired for sentiment.
Neither were my guys, apparently. I couldn’t be angry. Not really. But I was suddenly exhausted. There was only so long one person could keepthe magic alive on their own. I curled up in a ball, hugging Ivan’s pillow tightly as a random tear fell.
The soft buzz of my phone on the nightstand broke through the stillness. I rolled over and glanced toward it without moving at first, half-tempted to ignore it altogether. Then it buzzed again.
Alek. Of course it was him. Not one to ignore him, I unlocked the screen, pulse heavy in my throat.
REAPER:
Marcus has instructions for you. Please follow them.
Instructions? I stared at the screen, trying to process. My heart beat sluggishly and low, dragged down by disappointment that not even Hallmark could fix. He thought a vague order dropped in my inbox without context, apology, or a hint of love, would fix this?
Typical Reaper behavior.
I wished I had a magic wand I could wave over him and tell him what I needed right now was my sweet Alek. My fingers hovered over the keyboard, thumbs trembling with restraint. The temptation to shut him out entirely pulsed through me. I wanted to ignore it. Ignorehim. Ignore all of them.
Another buzz made me jump. The sudden vibration sliced through the stillness.
REAPER:
Kitten, answer me.
I let out a short, breathy, bitter laugh. Oh,nowhe was going full authoritarian.
“Answer me,” I mimicked, then bit down on my tongue to stop the words I really wanted to send—words like ‘fuck off’, except that wouldn’t do.
Instead, I typed back, every keystroke clipped with restraint I refused to hide.
KINSLEY:
I have plans already. You should have said something last night when we talked.
There was a pause. Only a few seconds, but it felt like forever. Then another message.
REAPER:
It’s not up for discussion. You’ll do as you’re told. Understood?
Oh, Iunderstood, all right. I understood that my feelings were still being treated as optional. I understood that “just a few days” had become five and counting. And I understood that the man who claimed I was his world hadn’t bothered to ask how mine was holding up.
The heat behind my eyes burned, but I blinked it away and let the fire settle in my fingertips instead.
KINSLEY:
I’m not stupid, old man. But clearly, you should get your eyes checked. But until then, try this; go to your settings. Click on accessibility, select display and text size. Tap larger text for options. Make it as big as you need and then re-read.
The reply came instantly.
REAPER:
Is that how we’re going to play?
I smirked, but it didn’t touch my heart.
