Page 72 of Claimed By a King

“Your face is still painted. No wonder she doesn’t recognize you.”

My brows shoot up.

I’d forgotten that my face is painted all black with red lips. I can’t believe I forgot about that, even while looking at the paint smeared across her face, some washed away from her tears.

Taking the towel, I mutter a thanks and use it quickly to wipe off as much of the sticky dried paint as I can before returning to Zoe.

I march back to my bedroom door and open it slowly, not wanting to startle her. She’s sitting on the end of the bed this time, her arms wrapped around Alana as they embrace each other and cry together.

“Zoe,” I say quietly, and notice the way she stiffens in Alana’s arms.

“Why does he sound so much like Gray?” she whimpers into the crook of Alana’s neck. “Why won’t he just let me mourn him in peace?”

Alana’s tear-filled eyes lock with mine over Zoe’s shoulder, right before she pulls back to wipe away Zoe’s tears.

“I need you to listen to me, okay?”

Zoe nods, keeping her eyes locked on Alana, and I wonder if she even remembers that I’ve stepped back into the room.

“I know you’re not going to believe what I tell you, but please try to remember I would never lie to you, and I’m trying to help.”

Zoe nods again as Alana brushes back some wisps of blonde hair near Zoe’s temple.

“You’re not with the Reapers anymore.” Alana starts, and Zoe stiffens, but Alana starts rubbing her hands up and down Zoe’s upper arms, trying to keep her calm. “Tonight, the Kings came and got you back. I don’t know the details of where you were or how they got you, because I wasn’t there, but…” Alana’s eyes flick to me again, before she cups each side of Zoe’s face, making sure she is focused on her. “Whoever told you that Grayson died was lying to you.”

For a moment, Alana studies Zoe’s face as she lets her words sink in, and fuck, I wish I could see Zoe’s face right now.

“No,” Zoe finally whispers. “They showed me a newspaper article. It said something about the Kings no longer having a VP or something…” Zoe shakes her head. “I—”

“Well, technically, for a while there we didn’t have a VP, but not because Gray died.” Alana explains, and when Zoe doesn’t speak, she continues. “Rocco got badly injured, so Gray had to be the acting President, and now… well Rocco’s injuries left him unable to continue leading the club, so he stepped down and Grayson was sworn in as the new President of the Cruz Kings.”

“W-what?” Zoe stutters. “H-he’s not d-dead?”

Alana shakes her head, dropping her hold of Zoe’s face and sitting back to look at me.

Then, slowly, Zoe’s gaze follows, peering over her shoulder to lock eyes with me.

“Princess.”

Zoe flies up from the bed, pressing herself against the wall, not really like she’s scared so much as shocked.

Her frantic blue eyes dart from me to Alana and back again, probably about ten fucking times. All I want to do is go to her and hold her in my arms, but she’s still like a caged animal right now, and she’s just been delivered some news that goes against what she thought was real for who knows how long.

Shit. Maybe she was glad to hear that I’d died.

“Princess,” I say again, taking a step closer but she holds a hand up to stop me.

Her eyes drop to the floor where my feet stop moving toward her, and she scrubs at her eyes again like she’s trying to wake them up or something.

Her eyes flick back up to mine, and her lips part as she takes a breath to speak.

“Gunner wouldn’t have stopped just now,” she whispers. “He would have disregarded my gesture and kept coming, ready to take what he wanted.”

Fuck me. I can barely stand to hear those words fall from her lips and the only reason I’m not flipping out is because I know she’s starting to see that it’s really me here in front of her.

“I may be a prick, Princess, but I won’t take anything from you unless you’re willing to give it.”

Her lashes flutter as my words register and then even through her tears, she juts up her chin. “Except if you hold a gun to my head.”

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