Page 111 of Scarred

“You have a complex,” I sneer.

“Sara, I didn’t kill your father.”

I stop fighting against his hold, growing slack in his arms, confusion racing through me as my brows draw down. “No, you did. My uncle told me it was you, he—”

“Wants to take the crown,” he cuts in.

I’d love to deny it, and for the next few moments, that’s what I do. I search every single crevice of my memory, trying to drag up something that proves his innocence. That proves he would never. He was soconvincingin his plight for me to kill the rebel king, and if eventhatwasn’t genuine, then I wonder if I really have known him at all.

My uncle has been like a second father to me. But he’s also been the one in my ear at every turn, fanning the flames of my fire and directing them on where to go.Was everything manipulation for his end goal?

“You were their scapegoat, little doe. The one who would take the fall for the murders of the monarch and blaze the path for them to steal the crown.”

My chest cramps. “What?” I shake my head, disbelief pouring like icy rain through my body.

His fingers press against my lips, brushing over them in a soft caress. “You know I don’t wish to hurt you.”

“No, they wouldn’t,” I say again. “Hewouldn’t, I’m his family.”

Even as I say the words, the truth sinks into my bones, making them ache, and I know.

I am such a foolish woman.

Sympathy coasts through his eyes. “I’llbe your family now, little doe.”

My chest feels heavy, and my soul feels worn, but there’s also a sense of relief that lifts a burden from my shoulders, the chains tying me to the Beatreaux name breaking away and smashing as they fall to the ground.

“Swear it,” I plead. “Swear to me, on your father’s grave, that you speak the truth.”

He cups my cheek. “I swear it on my father’s grave, Sara. I will onlyevertell you the truth.”

My gaze moves back to his, my heart swelling as I stare into his perfect face. “Did you mean it when you said you loved me?” I ask.

He sighs, moving my arm from above my head and resting it over his racing heart. “I’ve only ever wanted one thing in my entire life. The throne. I’ve been plotting and planning for so long, I can’t remember what life was like before. And I’m so close, Sara.So closeto victory.”

My stomach tightens.

“But you…” He licks his lips. “You could burn down the entire kingdom until it’s nothing but charred rubble, and I would crawl over the embers with glee, so long as I could worship at your feet.”

My insides quake from the magnitude of his words.

“If that’s love, then yes, I love you.” He lifts a shoulder. “I can’t feel anythingbutloving you.”

I bite back the emotion that’s stampeding through my chest, lifting my hand to push the stray hair off his forehead. My breathing stutters, and I know that with my next words, everything will change. “I love you too.”

His eyes darken, and his cock pulses against my center.

“And it would be such a shame not to see you wear the crown.”

CHAPTER47

Tristan

“What are you drawing?” Simon’s voice cuts through my concentration and on instinct I jerk away, trying to hide the work in progress from his view.

He grins at me, his gap-tooth smile making something loosen in my chest, and I lean back against the bark of the weeping willow, watching as he plops down next to me, laying his toy sword at his side, and peering over my arm again, trying to get a good view.

“Is that lady?” he asks when I don’t respond fast enough.