Rose in Chains (The Evermore Trilogy, #1)

by Julie Soto

The borders were open. The king was dead. And she was expendable now, it seemed.

“Sometimes I have to act without your approval to do what’s best for my family! Not just you, all four of us!”

“Didion, you don’t have to… to wait for me.” She bit her lip. “I don’t expect you to, I mean—” “I would wait millennia for you, Briony Rosewood.” His eyes were clear and his voice soft. And though it was the most romantic thing anyone had ever said to her, she felt nothing.

He stepped forward and placed his hands on her arms. “You did what was necessary to protect yourself.” She leaned into his weight, and at last her tears spilled over, streaming down her cheeks. “To protect you.” Her throat clicked as she hurried to add, “Your mother. All of us.” There was a body in the grass and her hand was in a fist.

“My heart will never be the same,” she whispered, voice reedy. “You did what was necessary,” he rumbled, words she felt as much as heard. “You did what I didn’t have the power to do.”

She remembered that day in the Trow dungeon—how she had Reighven’s heart in her palm for one moment. She could have finished him then and maybe escaped with Katrina. She hadn’t had the strength that day, but today was different, and she couldn’t help but think that having Toven’s life in the balance was the difference.

“A No Kissing Me Rule, then,” she teased. His lips parted, and his tongue was quick to wet them. “Exactly,” he breathed. Her eyes flicked back up to his, and then he was kissing her.

She wanted the weight of him. She wanted his sweat. She wanted him groaning for her.

“You’ve had a very hard twenty-four hours, and I know that taking a life twists your heart, but I want you to know that you have never been more brave to me than now.”

Briony watched his face harden. She felt it in her heart, when he failed to say what she wanted to hear—that she wasn’t special, but that she was special to him.

She licked her lips, and when his eyes dropped to her mouth, she pushed back the hope that he would ever kiss her again. This wasn’t a love story.

“It means,” she said, “that I am more certain every day that my brother is alive.” She watched his eyes slowly widen. “And I’m wondering if you’re going to help me or stand in my way.”

She took off into the sky, determined to forget about the rose prince and the itch she had to belong to him.