Queen Takes Rose (Wicked Villains 6)

“She raised you to be a queen and then gave you second place.”

“Yes.” I don’t begrudge her that. Her plans made sense from a tactical point of view, and they ensured the Amazons would remain under a strong leader. If I got the raw end of the deal, I’ve never held it against her. I would have done the same in her position. “I stayed in Sabine Valley until Aisling had her third daughter, Winry, but the second-in-command position chafed. And my sister might love me as much as I love her, but she doesn’t trust me entirely.”

“Can you blame her?”

I arch an eyebrow. “Of course not. I wouldn’t sleep well with someone like me as next in line for the throne, either.” I sit back and pick up my wine glass. “It was better for everyone that I leave.”

“Why Carver City?” She’s still not looking directly at me, still edging this conversation in such a way that I’m not sure of our destination.

Oh well. I resign myself to being along for the ride. If she needs to talk this out, it’s the very least I can do to indulge her. “Of the two cities closest to Sabine Valley, Olympus is too entrenched in its leadership. There’s no way I could come in as an outsider and end up as one of the Thirteen.” And no way that I would be content as one of the bit players beneath Zeus. “Carver City offered more opportunities.”

Aurora pulls her knees up to her chest and wraps her arms around them. “Why this territory?”

There’s no harm in telling her. The news is two decades old, after all. “It had the most potential for growth—and the weakest leader. The people were unhappy; they needed someone strong to give them a path forward.”

She inhales sharply. “I suppose that makes sense.”

It does, but what doesn’t make sense is her reaction to this mundane information. I frown. “Aurora, what does this have to do with continuing this thing between us past the end of the contracted assignation?”

“I…” Aurora takes a deep breath. “I heard that you almost killed her when you took over.”

It feels like there’s a question within her statement, but I can’t figure out the flavor of it. I debate for a moment but decide to answer instead of pushing her. This time. But I want an explanation, and I want it soon. “I dislike coups that come in the form of a blade in the back. It’s cleaner to have a fight for it out in the open. I declared my intentions to take over, and Amelia chose not to take me seriously. She could have left, and I wouldn’t have touched her, but she didn’t. We fought. I won. It’s as simple and complicated as that.”

“You almost killed her.”

I study her. “Where is all this concern for something that happened twenty years ago coming from?”

“You had her down and beaten, and you still chose to keep going.” She’s still not looking at me, her voice low and fierce.

“An Amazon doesn’t leave an enemy at their back,” I say softly, my mind racing. Why is she so worried about the former leader of this territory? It’s no coincidence. Aurora’s anger is too personal to be on behalf of some faceless stranger. No, there’s something else going on here. But what? Aurora was maybe ten or so when that fight happened. There were no children involved; neither Amelia nor her inner circle had kids. I would have known.

“I see,” she whispers.

I cup her face and gently guide her to look at me. Part of me wants to let this go, to kiss her and distract us both until whatever lurks beneath the surface of this conversation stays locked away. I can’t shake the feeling that this revelation will crush the fragile bloom of possibility we’ve nurtured the last week.

It’s not in my nature to shy away from an ugly truth, let alone a fight. I search Aurora’s pretty face, looking for answers she’s determined to hide from me. Finally, I ask the question I know, deep down in my poisoned heart, that will break us. “Who was she to you?”

The silence stretches thin between us. Aurora shudders out a sigh. “My mother.”

Shock has me dropping my hand. “Impossible.”

“It’s really not.”

I’m already shaking my head. “She had no family. It was the first thing I looked into when I got into the territory.”

Aurora goes back to staring at the fire, her expression curiously blank. “I lived with my grandmother. She didn’t want the dangerous elements of her life to touch me. At least not when I was a child. I doubt the same would have held true if she were still ruling when I turned eighteen.”

I’m still trying to wrap my mind around this revelation. Twenty years is a long time. I barely remember what Amelia looked like, let alone down to the kind of details that I could hold up to Aurora as a comparison. I remember she was a slim Black woman, but that’s it. Her features have blurred over time, and I never spent any effort into solidifying them. Why would I bother?