Page 81

The room is suddenly hotter, closer; fear claws at me. Omar steps into my space, his hands sliding into place at my waist. He moves closer, fingers tightening, pulling me into him.

It’s happening fast, I’m barely able to register the heat of his palms, the strength in his grip before Omar slants his mouth over mine.

This is not the electric fire that sparked between Ash and me. But there is a flame here. Omar pulls back, holds my gaze. “Please marry me.”

A knock at the door saves me from answering. Omar creates some space between us but keeps a possessive hand on my waist. “Yes.”

Ash opens the door. “The helicopter has landed. If we are going to go, we need to move.”

“Omar,” I say. “Can I have a minute with Ash please?”

The prince turns fully to me, giving his back to Ash. “I would like to tell you to take all the time in the world, but we don't have it.” He kisses my forehead and then leaves, slipping past Ash without a glance.

“Close the door,” I say.

Ash does as I ask, his gaze staying on me. It drops to the broken lamp, then comes back to me. There is nothing in his eyes. Cobalt ice.

“Ash,” I whisper. It draws him closer. Just a few steps. Just close enough for the electric grid to light up. “You knew this was a possibility. That we’d be trapped here. That they’d try to kill me.”

“Yes. I knew it was a possibility. If the queen died.”

“Why didn’t you say anything?” It’s my turn to take a step toward him.

“You didn’t ask.”

“I didn’t ask.” Is he fucking kidding?

“It’s not my job to advise you, Angela. I’m tasked with keeping you safe.”

“I think we are a little past that.” His jaw tics. Oh, are you getting a little angry, Ice Man? Welcome to the fucking club. I make a sound of annoyance mixed with disgust. “Well, I’m asking you now. What do I do? Omar asked me—” I stop talking because my throat tightens too much. I can’t say it.

“To marry him?” Ash asks. I nod. “I think you should.”

My jaw loosens and my eyes widen. “Even after.” I gesture to the other room, to the kiss. To the painful craving we share.

“Here are your options.” Ash comes closer, bending his neck to speak quietly. “I can take you out of here. Back to your house. We can beef up your security. Cancel nearly every public appearance. But if you try to resume even a semblance of your career, I think they will still manage to kill you.”

I shrink away from him. He closes his eyes, lets out a long breath. “I can also make you disappear. Hide you. You give up your fame, your life, give up everything, give up any power you have to affect the world. But you’d be safe.” He opens his eyes and they burn me with their heat. “I know how to make it so they will never find us.”

I’ve stopped breathing.

“Or you can marry his royal highness. You will be safe.” He pauses, the rest of the sentence, the real truth hanging in some liminal space for the long breath he takes before continuing. “You will also be very well positioned to help Temperance and his allies. You can help mold the world you want.” He pauses, his expression softening. “Those are your three options. Which one do you want?”

He’s holding my gaze. And it hits me: this is really happening.

This is my life.

I’m tangled in a web that has enveloped me since I traded my independence for my freedom the day Temperance walked into my life. Its filaments are hard to perceive, but strong as spun steel.

And now that I can see it, the choice becomes clear. I can carry on at my extreme peril. I can forgo all agency and try to disappear. Or I can take the one option that will allow me to manipulate the strings.