Page 105 of Savage Empire

“It was, wasn’t it? You apologized for waking me, and you tried to get away from me in the room. Did I hurt you or did you hurt me—in the dream?”

I swallow, looking away dismissively. “I’m not talking about this.”

“Did I die?” he wonders, refusing to drop it. “Protecting Yordan, maybe? Do you feel guilty that you were happy I took his place?”

Is this guy a fucking mind reader now?

“You’re grasping at straws, and you’re pissing me off.”

“You don’t look pissed, and trust me, I know what you look like when you want to rip my head off. You look exhausted, and sad.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“You’ll feel better if you talk about it.”

“I’ll feel better if you fuck off,” I retort.

Like he’s done squabbling with me, Apollo captures my hand and stops me from walking further. He slowly pushes me into a small corridor, backing me against a solid wall.

“Tell me,” he insists, voice going soft.

My throat goes tight. “Why do you even care?”

“All I ever do is care where you’re concerned, Rayna.” Tilting his head, he attempts to read my face. “You call me overbearing and now you’re surprised when I continue to be? Tell me what frightened you in your dream, and you’ll feel better when you go back to sleep.”

“You don’t have the right to my unconscious thoughts too,” I mumble, frowning. “Haven’t you invaded my life enough?”

He doesn’t hesitate to reply. “No.”

I don’t know whether he’s convinced me, or whether I’m too tired to continue to fight him on this. But either way, I give in.

“You died for Yordan.”

“So, I was right?”

“No,” I snap, teeth clenching. “You died for Yordan but there was no guilt for being happy about it.”

His jaw twitches, a smile that is more like a sneer shaping his lips. “Well, I wasn’t calling you cold before but?—”

“I wasn’t happy at all,” I cut him off, eyebrows drawing down. “I was devastated. For Yordan—for your family. I was so relieved that my brother was unharmed, but that relief barely lasted a minute as I watched you bleed out. I wassad, Apollo. How’s that for cold?”

“No wonder you didn’t want to speak of it,” he says, voice slowly becoming softer again. “You’d miss me if I died, wouldn’t you, love?”

My heart gives a funny beat. “Don’t call me that.”

He moves in closer. “I don’t hear a denial.”

My eyes flick to his lips, and for a second, I consider it. It might be nice, just to let go—for even a moment. They look soft, soft and inviting. Silence stretches between us, and he almost looks like he’s considering the same thing as he peers down at me. But the thought is fleeting. This is Apollo. Overbearing, too cocky for his own good, never shown a hint of interest in me, Apollo.

Turning my head to the side, I exhale shakily, effectively breaking the tense moment.

“So, Yordan had to walk in for Leon to break your potential kiss, but when it’s me, you can do it all on your own?”

A cold shiver crawls up my spine at the sound of his voice. His question is delivered with a dark edge of frustration that I couldn’t have expected. He’supsetthat I looked away?

“How do you know about that?” I murmur, looking down in shame.

“He told me,” he replies, his voice low and rumbling. “Something you should have done.”