Page 51 of The Broken Prince
I inhaled a slow breath, dissipating the tears before they had a chance to form. “What did you discuss?”
Huntley said nothing for a long time. “He’d pledged his sword to Harlow. Pledged his life…”
“A very strong declaration of love.” I stared at his back in the mirror, watching the way he breathed.
“Since he’s a vampire, there’s no future for them. When the war is over, he’ll leave these shores, never to return. She’s aware of this.”
“He’s willing to risk his life for an unsustainable relationship?” I asked incredulously.
After a pause, he spoke. “Yes.”
“That’s senseless.”
“That’s what he said, and I believe him.”
“While I’d rather she be with a human, I don’t see why being different species should keep them apart. Look at Elora and Bastian. Or Ian and Avice—”
“Vampires are immortal. He could make her a vampire, but that would require her to forsake her soul, and then there would be no afterlife if she were to be killed.”
I inhaled a slow breath, my teeth clenched in terror.
“He promised me he would never do that…and I believe him.”
The breath I held came out slow, unsteady. “He’s even more honorable than I realized.”
Huntley was quiet. “Yes…I suppose he is.”
I left the vanity and moved to his side of the bed, taking the seat beside him.
He stared at the wall ahead of him, his eyes dead and empty.
I waited for him to look at me.
His forearms rested on his thighs as his hands came together, his muscular thighs exposed in his shorts.
“Huntley.”
His eyes remained fixated.
“You need to look at me.”
He inhaled a deep breath, the kind that made his chest rise several inches. His hands automatically balled into fists, the tendons popping from the strain.
“It’s better than being dead.”
“You don’t understand…”
“You can’t be everywhere at once—”
“But I should be at your side always.”
“Your duty to our people comes before us—”
“No.” His nostrils flared as he released a hard breath. “I once believed that was true, but I couldn’t lead if I lost you. If I lost Atticus or Harlow. You are first—always. Every time I look at those scars, I’m reminded that I failed as a husband.” He closed his eyes briefly, like he was on the verge of tears. “I’m unworthy of your love.”
My hand cupped his cheek to turn him toward me, but he fought it, refusing my pull. “Huntley…” I turned his head again, and this time, he allowed me. Our eyes locked, his blue eyes drowning in pain. “I’ve never needed you to protect me. When your mother handed me to the Teeth, did I need you to rescue me?”
He was silent.
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