Page 90 of Destined Dawn
“Yes, I know,” I say softly, reaching out to stroke my knuckles down his cheek.
He captures that hand in his and kisses each of my fingers. Not meeting my eyes as he says, “Not all the foster parents were exactly suited to their role. Not exactly caring in nature.”
“I’m sorry, Phoenix.”
He shakes his head. “It is what it is.” He squeezes my hand. “This one time I couldn’t stand it any more, couldn’t stand what the fucked-up dude was doing to me so I ran away. For a bit, I was out on the streets. I wasn’t the only one. There were a few of us. Safety in numbers and all that.” He pauses. “Barone was there too. He was younger than me. Pretty skinny and small. Pretty insane even back then.”
“And what happened between you?”
“Nothing. Nothing at all. I think he rather looked up to me. Used to follow me around a lot. I couldn’t get rid of the dude. Then I got picked up by the authorities and sent to this older man. One who loved learning, loved books. Made me love them too.”
“And that’s how you ended up a professor,” I say, smiling at him.
“It was the start.” He’s quiet for a moment. “I was lucky, Rhi. I got picked up by the authorities and not Lowsky Senior. Barone wasn’t that lucky and sometimes that fucks with my head. Sometimes it makes me feel a hell of a lot of guilt.”
“You were just kids. It wasn’t your fault.”
“Yeah, but I could have helped him out. Could have been kinder to him.”
“You could be now.”
He closes his eyes. “He reminds me of things I’d rather forget. But you’re right. I could be.” He opens his eyes again. “I’ll try to be.”
“Thank you,” I say, kissing his cheek.
I’mthe first awake the next morning, woken by cramps in my lower belly. Looks like my period is on its way. I’ve never been so relieved.
I squeeze out from between Azlan and Stone, trying my best not to wake them. After I’ve yanked Azlan’s shirt over my head – I’m becoming addicted to wearing my mates’ clothes and drowning myself in their various scents – and used the bathroom, I step out into the main room to find the young woman from yesterday busy at work, setting up the breakfast things. I’m surprised to see herhere so early. I wonder what kind of crazy shifts she must work.
“Charmaine, right?” I ask, yawning and stretching my arms over my head. Then, remembering I’m not wearing any panties and could well be flashing the poor woman, drop my arms abruptly.
She stops what she’s doing, stands up straight and bows her head.
“Your Royal Highness. I’m sorry if I disturbed you.”
I snort. “I’m not your Royal Highness.”
Her gaze sneaks up to meet mine. “You are the Black Prince’s daughter. His heir.”
I snort a second time. Pip emerges from under the table where I bet he was snuffling for crumbs and snorts along with me.
“I don’t know about that. I’ve spent most of my life on the run, hiding or dodging the punches of others. I’ve certainly never felt like a princess.”
She was awfully shy yesterday, barely able to look at me, let alone talk to me. This morning, her curiosity gets the better of her and she can’t help asking me, in a voice so hushed I barely hear: “You lived in the East?”
“Yes.”
“What is it like?”
I tilt my head, filled with a curiosity of my own. “What have they told you it is like?”
“A place filled with darkness and pain.”
I laugh. I can’t help it. “Well, some of the time I guess it is. Just as I’m sure here is also filled with darkness and pain sometimes.” Although from what I’ve seen so far, a lot less often than it is back home. Her eyes widen in horror like I’ve spoken some heinous blasphemy. “That’s what they told us the West was like too,” I explain.
I can see this takes her a few moments to compute and then she nods.
“Although,” I add, “things in here certainly look more beautiful, better run, fairer.”
