Page 101 of Endgame
In some of the photos, Everett’s smiling back at her.
Genuinely smiling at the younger girl.
Jealousy tastes sour and acidic on my tongue.
No one’s ever offered me a smile as bright and loving.
My parents are always either bored with me or mad at me.
My tutors, our staff, and my security detail always maintained a wall of separation between us.
The Royalty members don’t give a damn about me.
This girl, she had that. Three people who laughed at something she said.
One of them was Everett. She had his love. His awe. His adoration. He doesn’t seem to beinlove with her. He just looks happy to be spending time together, with her and his parents.
This has to be the girl he mentioned before our wedding.
Is she his sister?
Is or was?
After another close inspection, I decide they aren’t related. Can’t be.
On the outside, she and his family are polar opposites.
Who is she?
“Aurora.” Everett’s sharp voice stops my heart. The air whooshes out of my lungs. “What the hell are you doing in here?”
17
AURORA
“Nothing.” After I force my lungs to work, the flippant response practically rolls off my tongue.
He thinks he can just march in here and scare me? After making me feel small and unimportant for more than a day?
No fucking way.
“Aurora.”
“What are you doing here?” I turn to my new husband, my chin held high. “Aren’t you busy avoiding me?”
Everett raises an eyebrow, leaning on the doorframe. A flicker of something unreadable crosses his face, but he doesn’t speak.
Damn him. Damn him and his casual jeans and T-shirt; how well they fit him. Those veins cording his lean forearms, making my body buzz for him.
Straightening my spine, I look him dead in the eye.
His expression changes until he’s fixing me with a glare.
This doesn’t feel like he’s taunting me back. The air in the room is so thick it makes me heady. Everett’s eyes have never looked more terrifying. I can tell he’s mad, even from a distance.
I bet he’d never looked at her like that. At the girl who, if I really think about it, reminds me of myself. Obviously, he knew her well.
A pang of something sharp and ugly twists in my chest. Not jealousy this time, but dread.
