Page 40 of Revert (The Royal Chronicles #4)

Sudden coldness sliced through the warmth that had just bloomed between us.

“Why not?” My voice trembled, a whisper caught between hope and disbelief.

He stared off towards the daffodil-shrouded ruins, shoulders rigid with tension, jaw clenched as if to keep from saying more.

He turned away, but not before I saw the look in his eyes—not of anger, but fear, pain .

“This was a mistake,” he said tightly. “We have to go back to the distance and the safety it offers. I don’t understand how you could want this when I am the last man to ever deserve you. How can you trust me after the ultimate betrayal?”

The hypothesis I’d only half-formed—buried beneath layers of hope, fear, and desperate denial—suddenly surged to the surface. “You… remember? ” My trembling voice barely found shape, as if speaking the words aloud might shatter me.

He turned back to me slowly, his hardened devastation all the confirmation I needed. The ground beneath my certainty gave way.

I had spent so long clinging to the illusion that the man who had killed me and the one standing before me now belonged to two different timelines, that the version of him I had fallen in love with had never struck the fatal blow, sparing me that betrayal.

But in truth they were one and the same—one man, one heart, and one hand wrapped around the hilt of my death.

He closed his eyes briefly, as if he couldn’t bear to hold my gaze, agony carved into every line of his face.

“We can’t do this, Neese… Bernice .” My name trembled on his lips, as if he felt unworthy to speak it. “You have no idea your effect on me…but he does, and he will not stand for it.”

“ He? ” He didn’t need to answer for me to know he referred to the monarch behind every darkness that permeated the kingdom.

“Please,” he continued, desperate now. “You must hate me. It’s the only thing that will protect you. Hate me, push me away, stay out of reach—whatever it takes. Even if I’m not sure I can endure your indifference a moment longer. I miss you so much it’s destroying me.”

I took a step forward, the ache in my chest tightening as I seized a fistful of his shirt. “Did you kill me to get me to hate you? Do you think my feelings so insignificant that they could be severed that easily?” My voice broke.

“No.” His answer came sharp and immediate. “That’s not why.”

He looked like he wanted to say more—the explanation he was desperate to give clawing its way up his throat—but he swallowed the words back down.

“As much I want to, I can’t tell you any more. Just know…no matter how desperate I am for you, this cannot go any further. Please, Bernice.”

I wanted to scream. To rage. To demand answers.

But before I could speak, he leaned forward and pressed the tenderest kiss on my brow.

It wasn’t passion or apology—it was grief, a goodbye he couldn’t speak aloud.

The way he now looked at me as he pulled away as though I was someone he believed he’d never be allowed to touch again.

It stilled me, breaking something in me all over again.

A long silence fell between us. “What do we do?” I asked finally, voice small but steady.

He allowed his hand to fall away. “We do nothing and continue as we always have. We will keep our distance and pretend this conversation never happened.”

The words cut sharper than even the fatal wound to my heart.

“No.” The protest escaped without conscious thought. My fingers wound more tightly into his shirt, keeping him near me. “I can’t do that. It doesn’t matter that I still don’t understand why I have memories from a life I never lived. All I know is I need you. Please, Castiel.”

Perhaps I might have been able to go back to the charade of indifference and pretending before the kiss, but we’d crossed the point of no return, and no amount of time reversal magic could ever take me back to the person I was before this moment.

Castiel’s face twisted in pain. He opened his mouth, as if he might argue, looking like he might reach for me again despite everything he’d just said…

but then a sudden rustle shifted in the underbrush.

We both froze. His hand dropped instinctively to the hilt at his side as his eyes swept the edge of the clearing, whatever softness that had previously filled his features vanishing beneath a razor-sharp awareness.

He moved in front of me, shielding me with his body. “Stay behind me,” he murmured, low and tense. I obeyed without question.

Another rustle…followed by silence. Not natural stillness, but as though something had gone quiet on purpose. Castiel’s posture stiffened, his head turned slightly, as if listening beyond what human ears could detect.

His voice dropped to a whisper. “We’re being watched.”

Terror seized my breath. “A spy?” My shoulder throbbed as visions of the attack assailed my memories.

“Worse,” he said grimly. “Magic.”

The magic that slinked behind the scenes in Thorndale performing the evil king’s bidding. A cold ripple spread through me.

He cursed under his breath, barely audible. “I thought this place was shielded.” His jaw tightened, fury and fear flickering across his face as he turned sharply towards the path. “We have to leave. Now.”

His hand caught mine—not the tenderness of before, but tight and urgent, the kind of grip meant to protect. He led me quickly through the ivy-veiled archway back towards the palace grounds. Just beyond the tree line, waiting in the dappled shade, stood Halric.

He straightened at the sight of us, his expression unreadable—but I saw the flicker of surprise in his eyes as he took in our tension.

“Take her,” Castiel ordered quietly, placing my hand into Halric’s. “Don’t let her out of your sight. Keep her in her rooms. Remain posted at her door and do not leave.”

Halric’s eyes flicked to me, then back to the prince. He gave a short, sharp nod. “Understood.”

I turned to Castiel. “What’s going to happen?”

“I don’t know,” he said. “But if someone saw us—word will reach the king before nightfall. And if it does…” He didn’t finish. He didn’t have to.

I reached for him instinctively, not ready for another goodbye.

I expected his previous rigid distance, but he caught my hand, holding it tightly between both of his.

For a single heartbeat, everything stilled again.

His thumb brushed over my knuckles as his eyes searched mine, and I knew he was committing every detail to heart in case this moment was all we had.

“I meant everything that happened,” I whispered.

His gaze lowered to my lips. “So did I.” His voice cracked. “But it doesn’t matter now.”

He leaned forward one last time, and for a moment, I thought he might kiss me again. Instead, his forehead rested against mine for a single stolen breath in a world that seemed determined to keep us apart.

Then he was gone, vanishing down the path like a shadow swallowed by the trees. I stood unmoving, the press of his touch still lingering on my skin, the taste of the kiss still warm on my lips.