Savage Queen (The Dark Elite 3)

“It’s all been a lie, though,” I say bitterly. “All of it. At least everything you knew from the moment you were born until now… at least you know that was all true. When I look at my past now, even memories from a few months ago, I’m not sure what to believe. All I see are lies.”

The last word twists on my tongue like it’s made of poison. I shake my head, gazing into Hale’s eyes. His strong jawline has a shadow of stubble across it, and I reach up to brush my finger over the rough texture.

“My mom never really died. All that grief we felt for her? Lies. My dad, who I always thought was open with me about everything, got himself involved in some shady shit that ended up getting him killed, and I still don’t know what that was. Did it have to do with my mother? Did he know she was alive? If he would’ve just trusted me, maybe I could have helped him.”

“Grace…” Hale rests his forehead against mine, wrapping his arms around me, and I realize more tears have fallen without me noticing.

“She tried to kill me,” I murmur thickly. “Brian was going to kill me on her orders.”

That last sentence is like the final domino falling, and I break down into a heaving sob, my shoulders shaking. The betrayal feels like a massive weight bearing down on my shoulders, on my soul, and I don’t know who or what to trust in anymore.

“Grace, look at me.”

Hale’s voice is solid and firm, an anchor in the tempest of my thoughts. He wraps a hand around my hair and tugs gently, pulling my face away from his just enough to meet my gaze.

My wild, hurt eyes meet his own calm and steady ones as a shuddery breath escapes me.

“What we share isn’t a lie,” he says softly. “It wasn’t all a lie, your past. You want me to name a few things?” A tiny smile curves his lips, and even that small movement transforms his features, making him look impossibly more handsome. “The friendship we all had growing up, that was real. Even though we were just kids at the time and we didn’t know shit, none of that was fake.”

I chuckle, although it comes out as a half-sob. “We really didn’t know anything, did we?”

“No.” He smiles, cradling my face in his hands. “We were idiots. Still are, sometimes. I’ve fucked shit up, Grace. I’ve hurt you when I should’ve protected you, pushed you away when I should’ve held you close. But under it all, always…” One large hand leaves my face, trailing down to rest on my upper chest, just above where my heart beats. “I knew. I knew that you meant more to me than any other woman ever had. That’s real. And it will never change.”

I let out another shuddery breath, and Hale breathes with me, his hand still resting lightly on my chest.

His words flow through my body like the antidote to a poison that’s been eating away at me, and I’m suddenly so fucking thankful for everything that’s happened between us in the past month. It took time to come to terms with it, and I’m still not fully there yet, but I can’t deny that he’s right. What we have is real.

And I can’t even imagine what it would have been like to find out the truth about my mother—because I would have, eventually—without these four men here to support me. Without moments like these.

“You know what else?” Hale murmurs, watching me closely as he speaks. “What exists between you, Zaid, Lucas, and Ciro. That’s real too.” His thumb brushes against my jaw, wiping away the tears. “We won’t betray you like your mother did, I swear it on my life.”

His acknowledgement of my relationship with the other three men sends a new rush of emotions through me, and I don’t hesitate or second-guess myself as my body reacts to his words.

I just lean in and kiss him.

Hale responds immediately, and the feel of his full lips against mine is everything I need in this moment. Our kiss softens and deepens, and my fingers thread through his hair as I lose myself in it.

It’s not a kiss of anger or pain, of desperation or pure, wild lust.

Well, it is laced with all of those things. But it’s filled with something else too. Something deeper and stronger than all of those emotions. Something I don’t dare speak out loud yet, although I’m starting to feel it with every fiber of my being.

His hands slide down my body to my hips again, but he holds me gently, tenderly, kissing me slowly and deeply. All the tension and heaviness leaves me with one exhale that he catches between his lips. He pulls me a little closer, and even though we’re not building toward sex, I grind against him as I weave my hands around the back of his neck.

When his hands move down to palm my ass, rocking me harder against him, I know it’s time to stop.

Now isn’t the time for this.

I’m done with holding myself back from what I want, from what feels right.

I’m growing to accept that I have feelings for all four of these men, and that they have feelings for me. But I also know there’s a man being tortured in t

he basement, and that the two of us need to get back down there and see if Ciro has gotten any more information out of him.

I break away from Hale, and we both groan quietly. His hands linger on my body, fingertips flexing against the flesh of my ass.

“We should probably get back downstairs,” I murmur, dropping my head to inhale the warm skin of his neck. He smells like cloves and masculine musk. Like whiskey and leather. Like Hale.

“Yeah.” He sighs. “We should. Are you ready?”