“Yes, you’ve entertained many this week,” Antonio grumbled dryly. “You should be proud of the fact your future subjects have gotten a firsthand look at the Prodigies losing it.”
Shame filled me knowing I was behaving like a child. Frustration ran through me like toxic waste because I didn’t know what to do. Add in my alcohol consumption tonight and, well, I started bawling. Giant, hot tears blinded me and sobs started racking my frame. I hated fighting with Ezra. I detested feeling this way, everything jumbled and screwed up. I was so confused it was becoming debilitating.
“Hey!” Ezra roared. “She’s crying!”
I heard a grunt, and then a thud, while I let out all my emotions flowing through my wretched tears. Only a beat later, strong hands were ripping me away from Antonio in a blur, even as I heard another thud. Then Ezra’s bloodshot eyes were staring down at me, his protective warm arms wrapped around me tight, holding me close. Worry etched his tone, his eyes darting back and forth between mine. “Did he hurt you?”
I sobbed and shook my head, the action making his face waver for a moment.
Ezra’s nostrils flared and his eyebrows slanted together until his attention slammed over my head. His predator growled. “Stay the fuck back.” He wobbled and blinked, still holding me close, and then slipped his hand away from my waist to bend and tuck it under my legs. He lifted me in a blur.
We were flying.
It truly felt as such while Ezra used his Vampire speed, running so fast I wouldn’t be able to track him. Less than ten seconds later, he thumped against the wall directly next to his door, having evaded Antonio and King Venclaire, wherever they were now. Although, getting inside our room took longer than the trek there did. He couldn’t easily get the key out of his pocket while holding me, and since I was still clinging to him while I wept, he wasn’t putting me down.
When we finally got inside, I cried as quietly as I could, since Jack and Pearl were asleep. Earlier, Ezra and I had left them after making sure they were out. Tucking them into bed had become part of our normal nightly activities — recently alongside drinking and arguing — after taking care of them.
Ezra didn’t take us to the bed, instead placing me on the black couch and smashing me against the back of it when he lay down, too. It felt right, him keeping me warm and safe as I wrecked his shirt with my tears and grasping fists. He didn’t say anything — he was never one for words when I cried — only running his fingers through my hair, keeping me close. We fell asleep that way, curled around one another as we had done before everything had shifted.
The morning started out oddly.
Ezra and I were woken by Pearl and Jack…taking showers and getting ready…to actually leave our bedroom without being forced by their parents. Silently, we watched them while they — also silently — moved woodenly throughout our room. But they actually moved without the intent to throw or blow something up. Neither one of us wanting to disturb this new development, we didn’t move or speak, only watched, still wrapped in each other’s arms, keeping the other warm. Then…they left the room about three minutes apart from each other.
We stared at the door. Both still mute. Hopeful, but worried.
Ezra and I continued waiting.
Watching the door for them to storm back inside, unable to handle the populace.
Five minutes turned into ten.
Ten turned into twenty.
Once forty-five minutes rolled around, and Jack and Pearl didn’t show, it was pretty obvious they weren’t immediately running back here.
More than a bit of relief filled me with the thought.
Ezra was the first to break our mold, turning his face toward me.
Gently, he murmured, “Are you ready to talk about what happened last night?”
My lips pursed, and I shook my head.
He was quiet, his watchful eyes on me. His thumb brushed lightly over the curve of my jaw, making my jaw clench. He whispered, “Are you sure?” I couldn’t move or speak if my life depended on it right now. Sighing softly when I didn’t respond, he stated, “No matter what, I love you, sweetheart. Nothing will change that.”
My eyes darted between his, searching his open green gaze for the truth, since I didn’t dare breathe for fear I might start blabbering. Or worse yet, cry again. His gaze seemed to speak of honesty, but still my lids hooded instantly as I peered away. I wasn’t ready to speak about my issues. But it didn’t mean we couldn’t talk about his. “Why have you—”
Cutting me off, he placed a quick finger against my lips. “Don’t expect me to dish out the goods when you’re hoarding your own.” He pushed off the couch and stalked toward the bathroom, leaving me feeling cold and empty, and my stomach churning. “That’s not the way we work.” He disappeared around the corner, only to reappear a moment later, one of his black towels and his bathing suit in hands. Gruffly, he muttered, “I’m going to the pools.” The door slamming closed was his goodbye.
Like a girl, not like a Prodigy-almost-Queen, I lay on the couch and cried quietly.