Fated To Three, And I Broke Them All

Verity:

For a few moments, I had no idea what to say. I could only stare at his face.

Then I ran my tongue over my lips to moisten them because my throat had started to go dry.

”Your family?” I asked.

Then it suddenly hit me.

”Your parents?” I whispered.

He dropped his head, his legs spread apart and his elbows braced on his thighs.

His posture folded in on itself so completely that I could tell just how low he was feeling.

He gave a small nod. His thick hair shifted with the movement, hiding most of his face from me.

”When?” I asked softly.

He only shook his head.

Then he lifted it and brought his hand to his face, pressing his index finger against the inner corner of one eye and his thumb against the other, rubbing them as though he were trying to hold back tears.

”That doesn’t matter. What matters is that I’m going to find him, and I’m going to kill him. I’m going to avenge their deaths.”

At last, he straightened and regained some of his composure.

Then he pointed toward the window before turning that same finger toward me.

”So I don’t care what you know, what you feel, or why you’re so interested in the Fox King. That motherfucker is dying.”

The finality in his voice made the hairs on the back of my neck rise.

Never in a million years had I imagined this trip would go so horribly wrong.

”I’m sorry. I didn’t know,” I murmured.

He lowered his head again, this time covering his eyes with one hand while his elbow rested against his thigh.

I sat across from him with my back straight, watching every little movement.

”Did you remove his name from the search?”

He nodded without uncovering his eyes.

”Why did you never talk about it?”

Slowly, he lowered his hand. His face was already turned toward the window, and instead of looking at me, he kept his gaze outside, resting his fist beneath his chin for support.

”Does Theodore and Jaguar know?” I asked and he shrugged.

”We never talked about it,” he muttered under his breath.

I didn’t know what got into me, but even in a moment this sensitive, some petty part of me still managed to surface.

”Does Gigi know?”

At that, only his eyes shifted toward me. He didn’t turn his head, but one eyebrow lifted.

”She doesn’t?” I asked.

He clicked his tongue.

”Oh. So I’m the only one you open your heart to?” I mumbled.

He slowly pulled his fist away from beneath his chin and turned his face fully toward me.

There was an unspoken question in his eyes, and heat rushed to my cheeks before I could stop it.

Even I knew how strange that question had sounded.

Why had I even asked him that?

”No, I was just saying, you know. I told you something about my brother, and you told me something about your family. That’s it.”

I pushed myself up from the chair, deciding it would be better to go lie down on the bed.

Before I could take more than a step, his hand shot out and closed firmly around my wrist, stopping me in place.

My entire body went still.

I snapped my head toward him, but he wasn’t even looking at me.

His gaze remained lowered while his foot tapped restlessly against the floor, his fingers still locked around my wrist.

Then he gave my arm a small tug backward, not hard enough to hurt, but firm enough to make it clear he wanted me to sit back down.

I swallowed and stepped backward until the backs of my legs touched the chair, then slowly lowered myself into it.

Only then did his grip begin to loosen.

But he didn’t simply release me.

As his fingers relaxed, my wrist slipped gradually through his palm.

His hand slid down over mine, and just as our hands were about to separate completely, his index finger traced across the back of my hand, followed the length of my index finger, and brushed over my nail before finally falling away.

It was the gentlest touch he had given me yet.

Somehow, it felt more intimate than anything I had ever experienced with anyone before, which felt almost ridiculous to admit, even to myself.

Once again, I found myself sitting across from him.

He had hunched forward, one fist clenched tightly in the other hand, his head bowed low while his eyes remained fixed on me from beneath his brows.

Somehow, that made his stare feel even more intense.

I drew in a deep breath, but the next one caught somewhere in my chest.

The way he watched me made it impossible not to melt under his gaze.

In my head, it felt as though he were undressing me with his eyes, even though they never strayed from mine.

There was something unbearably intimate about it.

We simply sat there in silence, neither of us making any attempt to break it. It wasn’t as though either of us was in a hurry.

Then, finally, we both looked away when a child ran out of one of the rooms to play with his siblings in the parking lot.

The sudden brightness of the morning threw me off.

We had spent the entire night sitting there, staring at each other, yet I didn’t feel sleepy, and he didn’t look tired either.

I had been waiting for a moment like this, something that would create an emotional pull between us.

But this wasn’t how I had imagined it.

It felt as though I had somehow drawn closer to him, and I wasn’t even sure whether he had drawn closer to me.

That uncertainty was the problem.

I needed to get ready for the day and for the journey ahead, so I quickly pushed myself to my feet.

Ragnar rose from his chair as well.

As I headed toward my bag, I stole a glance at him and caught him turning toward the window, one hand resting on his waist while the other rubbed the back of his neck.

He looked agitated.

Or maybe he was blushing.

By the time I had grabbed my dress and started back toward the bathroom, I caught him looking at me.

The second our eyes met, he quickly looked away.

Then he flicked his hand toward the bathroom.

”Go. Get ready quickly.”

The way he said it made it sound as though he wanted me out of his sight as fast as possible, almost like he was too embarrassed to keep looking at me.