“Eva,” Mak said, his voice broken. “I’m sorry. That was …”
She pulled back from him, feeling a break between them, anger tightening her chest. “Don’t. Don’t apologize to me for what just happened. Don’t apologize for any of it. Ever.”
She walked away from him, toward the ballroom … closer. She stopped just outside the door. Her feet felt stuck to the spot. She turned and looked at Mak, a shiver racking her body, even though she felt no cold.
Bastian walked out of a side door, his fair good looks stirring nothing in her but the desire to run. To run toward Mak. She looked from her soon-to-be-fiancé, back to the man she loved, Mak, who was standing with hands at his sides, his expression one of barely suppressed violence.
“Evangelina, are you ready?” Bastian asked, his tone so polite, so detached, that not even the use of her name seemed personal.
She looked back at Mak, willing him to stop things. Willing him to ask her to stay. He didn’t. He only stood, frozen, watching her, his eyes cold. “Yes.”
She took his arm and headed into the ballroom with him, leaving her heart outside in the corridor, with a man she loved more than words could express.
She felt sick. She felt wrong. Her entire body felt branded by Mak, and now she had her arm looped through another man’s. Her body still ached, her lips were still swollen from kissing Mak. She felt as if what she had done, what she desired, was scrawled across her face for anyone to see.
She wanted to run. Away from Bastian. Away from everything.
But Mak was about honor. Mak lived it, he breathed it. Every line in his face spoke of the desire to go after her. But she knew he wouldn’t.
He had just broken every rule. For her. She knew he wouldn’t do it again. And she could never ask him to.
Because this was about more than one person. It was about the alliance of countries. It was about duty. And she knew that in Mak’s world, duty reigned. It was one of the things that made him so wonderful. One of the things that made him the man she loved.
She turned her back on love and turned toward duty. The pain coursing through her body protesting each step she took into the ballroom. Each step she took away from the life she desired, and into a life she would never have chosen. A life she would never be able to escape.
“The wedding will take place in just over three weeks.” King Stephanos made the announcement and the entire ballroom erupted into a collective sigh.
The prodigal princess, finally taking her place.
Mak watched from his position in the back of the room, his hand wrapped around one of the stone pillars, decorated with an intricate twining vine of bronze. A thing of beauty. And only one of the many things in the palace he would happily tear apart in that moment.
Eva looked waxen, her expression serene, guarded. He feared she might have learned that from him. He couldn’t spare a moment to look at the man standing at her side. He was unimportant. Mak wouldn’t waste one moment when Eva was in his sight.
Then Bastian Van Saant, began to speak and Mak tightened his hold on the pillar. So easy to imagine he was squeezing the other man’s neck. Far too easy. He talked about time-honored traditions, and uniting two powerful families. The unification of Komenia and Kyonos. He didn’t speak of love. Of why Eva was essential. Why she was special.
Mak knew why. Wherever Eva went, she would bring brightness, a sort of sparkle that was unique to her. Unlike anyone else in the world. She would bring energy, humor and a bit of scandal. And he doubted Van Saant would appreciate any of that.
She was right. She was nothing more than an item to these men, to her fiancé, to her father. A stock to be bought and sold when the market price was right. Van Saant had gotten a hell of deal since the value on his recent purchase was down, thanks to the salacious stories in the news.
The very idea made bile rise in his throat. Eva was a pearl beyond price. If it were but a matter of selling every last possession to have her, he would. He would give up everything to have her.
But it was more than that.
It was the cost to her, that was the cost that was unacceptable.
Finally, Van Saant quit speaking and music began playing again. Bastian took Eva’s hand and led her to the dance floor. Mak tightened his grip on the pillar, holding himself in place, willing himself not to cross the room and carry her out of it, just as he’d threatened to do at the casino so many weeks ago. Weeks that seemed like a lifetime ago.