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“There is no end for us,” he says with certainty. “It would be like trying to stop the tides. Impossible. My reason for breathing is you.”
“What do you have to smile about?” “I think I have a solution.” “Yeah, what is it?” I raise my glass to my lips and smirk. “I’m going to make Bella Isle Ciccula my wife.”
“Why me? If you need a wife so badly, why didn’t you pick from the legion of women clamoring for the attention of the Heartless King from the North?” I glare at him. “Why pick the girl whose heart you broke?” The words tumble out, thoughtlessly, and I regret them immediately. The last thing I need is for him to think he has any kind of power over me. Or that him failing to show up on my eighteenth birthday actually meant something to me. Yet there they are, out in the open. The admission that he did indeed break my heart.
Why pick the girl whose heart you broke? Anger crawls up my spine at the memory, and my smile vanishes. Because I learned the truth.
“What happened to you?” I call out. “What happened to the boy I grew up with?”
“I know. But I thought you were coming back. Then Nico went to America to find you—”
“I’m not going to flee the country.” She folds her arms. “You see, I’ve had time to think while I’ve been locked up in here, and I think I’d much rather stick around and make sure your life is hell. And what better way to do that than to marry you?”
“What the fuck?” Lust shimmers in his expression, fusing with his anger. “Are you trying to fucking kill me?”
“That’s it, little hell cat. Take it from me. Take your pleasure.” He groans and its primal. “Are you going to come for me?”
"Look at her... she's a queen.” His words brush the soft shell of my ear in a low, luring rumble. “She’s my queen.”
