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I was thankful for it, in some regard. Because I didn’t want to know, couldn’t know, any details of the few brave men she’d shared moments with. I didn’t have any real claim on her, but I felt like I did.

Especially those last few years. I wasn’t aware of anyone in her life. Unless she was hiding it well.

But it wasn’t until that night that I knew she shared even a fraction of my desire.

You could do something about it.

Those words might as well have been branded onto my skull. She hadn’t realized she’d said it at first, but I was fucking thankful she had. That knocked my head on straight and had me promptly taking her mouth.

The rest of that memory was reserved for any time I got alone.

And standing outside those stables…

My personal brand of anger tended toward instigation. Trying to make people meet my temper in whatever way I could. So, yeah, I stood there stark naked just to bother her.

It was a fucking miracle I didn’t get hard under her thinly concealed perusal of my body. She tried to hide it, she really did, but there was no mistaking her admiration in those observant hazel eyes.

It was moments like that where I was reminded how much I hated the wordfriend. It was a slip of the tongue, a truth I hadn’t meant to give her.

I knew I wanted more than friendship with her, but it wasn’t until we’d crossed that line that I knew with absolute certainty that there would never be a world where I would be content just being her friend.

That word was a fucking insult, a slap in the face.

It was clear that Daphne didn’t even view me in that high regard if she could run off without explanation. She’d been saying for a while that she wanted one last shot to dive into her research before moving over to the sea and I just guessed that was what she was doing. But to just run off, to disappear so well I couldn’t find her, no matter how many stones I turned over…

It made it crystal fucking clear that I was the only one in deep.

I’d spent too many minutes being pulled away from what I really wanted. For the umpteenth time in my life, I had to step in when Nikolas decided that he wanted to make a show.

Too much of that chaos and I'd go insane. And sitting with Zale, having to figure out how to smooth over my brother's appearance was the last thing I wanted to be doing.

When I’d finally gotten free, I all but sprinted back to our rooms. I had promises to keep, fantasies to turn into a reality.

Daphne was stuck with me until I got my fill of her. Which would likely be never, but I had to ease her into this. She might have taken the first step, but I’d be the one to pick her up and drag her over the cliff with me.

It was a miracle I didn’t break down her door, tracking the distant scent of her perfume to her room instead of mine—the one we’d been sharing.

It would have struck me as odd if I wasn’t mind-numbingly turned on.

I all but broke through her door, then stopped short. My breath rushed out of my lungs, white hot panic exploding through my veins.

Someone else might have missed it, but I knew Daphne. She’d maybe taken a small duffel with her, only enough to grab her favorite things from her room.

Her closet door was still open. Shoes turned on their side like someone knocked them over in a hurry.

Gone. Daphne was gone.

How she could run after that night was fucking beyond me. I’d only shown her a fraction of the intensity that burned my chest, and if that was enough to scare her, there was no hope.

It was all or nothing with her. I would have her the way I wanted or not at all. I couldn’t survive any other reality.

Shit, I was barely surviving this one.

I was pouring all of my energy into the problems in front of me, trying to focus myself on anything other than the hollow of Daphne’s collarbone or the curve of her bottom lip.

Including dealing with my idiot, throne-abdicating brother.

He’d taken a real dive from the grandeur of the way we were raised. The beachside hut he’d decided to shack up in was barely standing, the wood bending under the beating sun and salty air.