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“It changes everything!” Was he dense or something? It mattered. It totallymattered.

He crossed his arms, muscles stretching the cotton of his sleeves. “And what does it change, Mara? What changes when you find out that I knew and you didn’t? What changes when I tell you that it doesn’t take a genius to figure out that the moment my brother died, I was going to have to take his place? That whatever duty he had to the North was going to be my own fucking cross to bear? My burden to carry whether I liked it or not.”

Ouch!That hurt. That hurt a lot. Way more than I would have thought, and it stung. Nausea curled up and tossed itself in the pit of my stomach as acid burned in the back of my throat. I understood his position. I understood he didn’t want anything to do with his responsibilities as the new First Son of the North. But… “I’m a burden?” The words slipped out before my better judgment could take back control.

His eyes flickered as the scowl slipped from his face and his expression went blank. “What?”

“I’m a cross to bear? That’s what you said, right?”

Understanding clicked into place, and his eyes softened. “That’s not what I meant—”

“You knew,” I cut him off, not wanting to hear any pitiful excuses. “Or at least you suspected all along that you were going to have to marry me, didn’t you?”

“That’s not what I said.” He uncrossed his arms, taking a step toward me, but I put a hand up, halting him in his steps.

“No wonder why you hated me all this time—”

“Mara—”

“No,” I shot back. “Don’t try to change the story, Wes. You made it clear from the very beginning how you felt about me. No wonder why you showed up that day at the river with a knife. Killing me was a better outcome than being stuck with your brother’s hand-me-downs.”

His eyes blazed as his face grew stern. “That’s not fair, Mara. I would never hurt you—”

“Yeah, because Matias didn’t give you the chance!”

“That’s not true,” he growled, jaw clenched. “Do you think that if I really wanted to hurt you, I wouldn’t have done it by now? There were hundreds of opportunities, and not once did I try anything.”

I snickered, “Oh, well, excuse me if I don’t hand you an award for not murdering me.”

Wes threw his hands up in exasperation. “You know what? I don’t have to take this. I don’t have to take this shit and explain myself to you.”

“Oh yes, you do! You owe me abigexplanation,” I insisted as I leaned toward him, finger pointed.

Wes rolled his shoulders back. “Why? So you can argue with me the whole time about what did or didn’t happen?”

“Because I deserve to know what the hell is going on! I deserve to know the truth, Wes. I deserve to know who’s messing around withmylife!” I stepped toward him, his body stiffening as I encroached on his space. “I deserve to know what scheming has been going on because it’s not just aboutyouanymore, Wes. It’s aboutus. We’re both being pushed and pulled and paraded around like little puppets on a string. Don’t you think I’m just as freaking tired as you are of people manipulating my life?” Thewords flowed out of me…words I didn’t even know I felt. I was tired of being caught off guard, of being told where to go and what to do. I wanted control of my own damn life!

Our bodies were close. I didn’t even realize I had stepped so far into Wes’s personal space that mere inches stood between us. I guess some part of me thought he would step back, but he didn’t. He held his ground, eyes burning amber as he looked down at me. His body was rigid as stone, heat pouring off of him, enveloping me in the spicy scent of his cologne. And I held his gaze, holding my ground too. I breathed him in, and time suspended, the tension climbing as I waited for his reply.

Emotion passed through him so fast, I couldn’t tell what I was witnessing, and then he exhaled softly, shoulders collapsing in defeat. “You’re right. I’m sorry.” He shifted his gaze away from me, turning his face to the side. “I didn’t know for sure until a few weeks ago. But I had suspected this was coming.” He turned his gaze back on me, features soft and eyes glistening as they caught the light. “I should have told you Sasha was going to corner you on this.”

Wow. He was admitting fault. Wes was actually backing down to me. My heart fluttered at the realization. “Thank you. I…I appreciate that.”

Taking a slow breath, he nodded. We sat in silence for several seconds before Wes finally took a step away from me. His fist to his lips, he gently cleared his throat and then offered me his arm.

I cocked a brow. The whole thing felt so natural, so reminiscent of days long gone, that I couldn’t help but smile at his attempt of chivalry. Slowly, I slipped my arm around his, feeling my heart patter for a delicate moment in time.

“Ready to enter the lion’s den?” he asked.

“Curious choice of words. Am I about to become prey?”

Wes chuckled, casting his gaze to the ground before looking back at me with one of his devious, devilish smirks. “You have no idea.”

21: Wealth. Power. Survival. Revenge.

“Good of you to finally join us.” Marissa Calvernon was still clothed in her satin dress, but pearls accented her neck and decorated the lobes of her ears. The dining room was decorated similarly as the rest of the castle—stone walls, gold candelabras, elaborate tapestries on the long wall to the left, and a row of stained-glass windows on the wall to the right.

Where the Presidential Palace fancied white marbles, crystals, and lace, the Calvernon Estate was all medieval castle with dark stones, heavy red fabrics, and iron. The only thing they shared was a propensity for gold accenting. As different as the dining rooms were, the luxury and wealth of the room sent a shudder down my spine as memories of awkward family dinners danced in my mind.