Destroyed Destiny (Crowne Point 4)

“Talking,” Arthur repeated, beady eyes narrowing on my torn dress, on my neck. I felt the bite mark Grayson left burn hot.

I stared at Tansy, waiting for her to say something—do something. Her favorite son, the heir to the Crowne empire, was on his fucking knees in her own house, and she wasn’t going to do anything?

What rabbit hole had I fallen down? What Twilight Zone episode was I in?

West gripped my bottom lip, dragging my attention to his.

“That kiss looked pretty fucking passionate,” he spoke low enough, only I heard. “Did I miss any others?”

I tried to move but he tightened his grip, and I knew if I moved it would tear the skin bloody. I slightly shook my head.

“I told you I didn’t share, Angel.” Using my lip, he jerked my head to the side, and bit my neck.

In front of everyone.

I cried out, my eyes slanting to the side, finding Grayson’s, as West sunk his teeth into my neck. The look in his eyes would haunt me, almost as much as what followed next.

The change.

He went from calm to animalistic in the blink of an eye. Grayson lunged for me, but a guard wrapped his arm around his neck, pulling him back to the floor.

West released my neck, and said low enough only I could hear. “Remember this moment the next time you think to find Grayson, Angel.” Then he stood up, addressing the room. “One to match the other I gave earlier. I think we’re all tired. We’ll see you tomorrow.”

“See you tomorrow,” Arthur said, eyes still narrowed.

“Merry Christmas Eve,” Tansy said.

My jaw hit the ground. I always knew Tansy was horrible to servants, but I thought she had a small space in her wretched, rotten heart left for her children.

I couldn’t stay quiet. I knew the consequences if I spoke, but—

“You—” West slapped his hand over my mouth, muffling the word bitch.

Then West dragged me out of the room.

I struggled.

Grayson urged me with his eyes to stop fighting, but I couldn’t leave him—not like this.

I didn’t care about consequences, punishments, whatever the hell was going to happen to me.

So West wrapped his arms around my ribcage and lifted me off the floor, dragging me out of the room. My arms held uselessly and hopelessly out to Grayson.

Grayson’s eyes followed me as I left the room.

Strung between two guards, his arms pulled to their length, muscles, veins, viscera in stark relief. He looked like a king.

A fallen one.

And that’s the last I saw of him before I was dragged around the corner.

Fifteen

GRAY

I’m keeping a secret from my little wife.

What happened? What changed?