Page 15 of Obsessively Yours (Fae Kings of Eden #2)

15

TWENTY-TWO YEARS OLD

Roman watched Titus leave Violet’s apartment, thankful he’d headed out early. The man’s life held no excitement outside of Violet, yet he left her every night. It spared his life, but he didn’t know that.

Roman instructed Marissa to follow Titus a few nights a week under the guise of needing to know who would possibly be marrying into the royal family. Titus worked, spent time with Violet, and went home. That’s it.

That is exactly what you do , a small voice in Roman’s head reminded him, but he shoved it away. He had friends outside of Violet; Titus did not, according to Marissa.

Roman vanquished all thoughts of the man and observed Violet as she washed the dishes from their dinner. His lip curled. Her boyfriend should have stayed to help. Violet wouldn’t lift a finger without Roman by her side once they were together.

A darkness clouded his soul at the reminder that time was running out. Four months. That’s all he had left to find a way out of mating Vivian without killing her.

He wished, more than ever, that he’d let Vivian continue her dalliance with the mystery man because the woman hunted him down and harped on him constantly about their wedding. She’d been furious about delaying it for a year, but nothing she said changed Roman’s mind.

If he hadn’t been hellbent on putting her in her place, she’d probably be too preoccupied to care about their wedding, or lack thereof. She might have even run off and married the poor man.

Roman stilled. That’s it. Why the fuck hadn’t he thought of it sooner?

What if he could convince Vivian to marry the man she loved? If the guy already wed another, maybe she’d take another lover and fall in love. It might be a long shot, but Roman had to try.

With one last look at Violet and a silent promise to see her later, he slipped into the night to find Vivian.

* * *

“I need to speak with Vivian,” Roman told Meri when she answered their cottage door. “It’s important.”

“Of course, come in.” His future mother-in-law stepped aside for him to enter, closed the door behind him, and disappeared up the stairs.

Minutes later, Vivian floated gracefully down the stairs with a curious look in his direction and Meri on her heels. “What are you doing here?” Blunt and to the point; her usual mask gone.

“I need to speak with you privately.” He looked apologetically at Meri.

“Edgar will be home soon,” she said and crossed the room toward the door. “I’ll intercept him on the porch, and you two can talk in Vivian’s room.”

“Thank you.” Roman held out his arm, indicating for Vivian to go in front of him.

They climbed the stairs in silence, and once in Vivian’s room, Roman closed the door with a soft click. He hated being in here. Violet’s bed no longer stood on the opposite side, replaced by a custom-made weapons rack. The vibrant colors that once adorned the walls were noticeably absent with nothing in their place. It depressed him.

“What is this about,” Vivian queried, getting straight to the point.

Roman had spent the entire way from Violet’s cottage rehearsing what he would say. Vivian was no fool, and he had to plant the seed without her realizing his manipulation.

“Has my mother spoken with you about training?”

Vivian’s eyes slitted. “Why would your mother need to speak with me about warrior training?”

“Not warrior training. You’ll be stopping that after we marry.” Lie .

“What?” she screeched, and he stared blankly while she sputtered. “I’m not quitting training.”

“Yes, you are,” he deadpanned. “You’ll begin training with my mother on how to be queen.” If his mother knew he’d insinuated women couldn’t fight as a warrior and be queen, she’d rip his head off.

“That’s bullshit,” she seethed. “Your mother fights alongside your father.”

“My mother trained as queen from the time she was a child,” he reminded her, “and she doesn’t train with warriors anymore. She fights if we’re attacked.”

Vivian’s face reddened with rage. “I’m not stopping what I love.”

Roman chuckled humorlessly. “Yes, you are. No general will allow you to set foot inside the arena if I tell them not to.”

“Fuck you!” she yelled and shoved him.

He stuck his hands in his pockets and blew out an exaggerated breath. “We can’t go on like this, Viv. Neither of us is happy, and I don’t want to live the rest of our lives resenting each other.”

Vivian stiffened. “Are you fucking kidding me?” Her arms dropped, hands fisting at her sides. “I don’t know where this is going, Rome, but you can’t toss me aside. I’m your mate.”

Roman stepped back, putting on the best performance of his life. “If anyone knows that, it’s me. The gods bonded us, whether we like it or not, but we don’t have to be miserable.” He raked a hand through his hair and paced the length of the room. “Do you think I like having a mate who hates me?”

Vivian tracked Roman like a hunter watching its prey. “Do you think I want a mate who is in love with someone else?” she countered.

Roman stopped abruptly and looked at her in surprise, forcing his real emotions down. He’d mastered suppressing them over the years to keep her from knowing his every thought. Easy to do when you feel dead inside without the love of your life.

“Vivian, I barely have time to take a shit, let alone fall in love with someone. If I’m not training with the warriors, my parents have me in council meetings and going over fake political scenarios with them or the scholars.” Lie . He’d completed that training years ago, but she didn’t know that. “What little spare time I possess, I spend with the few friends I have. When would I fall in love with someone?”

“I’ve felt it,” Vivian stated matter-of-factly and tapped her chest. “Or did you forget?”

Time to see if his emotion suppressing skills were as good as he thought. “And when was the last time you felt it? Really felt it? A couple of years, right?” He scrubbed his hands down his face and dropped them, feigning defeat. “I can feel your sadness, Viv. I know you miss your old boyfriend.” Truth . It gave him pleasure to know she was suffering, and now he thanked the gods for her still holding a candle for this mystery man.

She shifted, a look of uncertainty flitting across her features for the first time. “I still feel spurts of affection and happiness from you.”

Shit. He rubbed his forehead and feigned disbelief. “You do know that I love my family and friends, right? Gods, Vivian, look at us.”

They stared at each other, Roman waiting for the perfect opportunity to strike. “It doesn’t matter,” she conceded. “We’re mated, and that’s that.”

“But you can still be happy,” he murmured. “It was wrong of me to put an end to your relationship when I had no intention of starting one with you.”

Her eyes flared. “What are you saying?” He thought of Violet to garner affection and push it down the bond, schooling his face into one of sympathy, hoping Vivian would mistake it as him caring about her happiness.

“I’m saying I won’t stop you anymore.” The crackling of a candle was the only break in the silence of the room. “If you want to be with him, or anyone else, I give you my blessing.”

“Violet won’t have you,” she informed him, her words cracking like a whip.

He snorted. “Violet is in a committed relationship. It’s only a matter of time before Titus proposes to her. I can assure you, this has nothing to do with your sister.”

Vivian’s face paled, and she wandered over to her bed and sat down. That isn’t the reaction I expected . Her sister being happy while Vivian lived not miserably at best got to her. She’d unknowingly given him the perfect weapon to wield against her.

“It’s funny.” He smiled wryly. “You once said you’d won because the gods chose you as queen.” He forced her to look at him, pushing as much sympathy and pity as he could down the bond. Truthfully, he did pity Vivian. She might be a spiteful, arrogant nightmare of a person toward Roman and Violet, but she’d had her choice taken away too. “In the end, Violet is the only winner,” he whispered. “She gets to marry someone she loves and be happy for the rest of her life; and look at us.” He gestured between them.

Vivian’s jealousy shot hot and fast down the bond, but Roman pretended not to feel it. Predictable . “And when we’re married?” she demanded.

Roman crouched down in front of her and turned her face to his. “Our arrangement still stands.” He hesitated. “Viv…”

She rubbed her chest, brows pushing together. “I can feel your uncertainty. Just say what you need to say.”

“If you decide to marry him, I understand,” Roman murmured. “I won’t stop you.”

He grunted when her shock, anger, hope, and confusion assaulted him. “That’s treason,” she hissed and stood, nearly tipping him over. “And what of the future of the kingdom, Your Grace ? They would hunt me down for jeopardizing their future safety.”

“No,” he said sharply. “I wouldn’t let that happen. I’m not saying I want you to do that—no royal has ever married anyone other than their mate in the history of Eden—but I’m not a fucking monster. I won’t force you to marry me and sign yourself up for a life of misery. We’ve tried to be friends, and it doesn’t work. We’re too different.” Tried was being generous. More like he’d pretended to try for three seconds when they were teens. “You can have your affairs. I won’t disparage your happiness anymore, and I don’t want to put my kingdom at risk, but if breaking our bond is the only way you feel you can live without hating your life, I won’t begrudge you that, either.”

Roman walked to the door and opened it. “I’m not the soulless asshole you think I am,” he intoned quietly. “I’m giving you back the choice the gods stole from us.”

He closed the door behind him and prayed Vivian’s feelings for her ex-lover were stronger than her desire to be queen.