There was a warning laced in with that declaration. One that set the hairs on the nape of Cynna’s neck to attention. “I’m pretty sure Nick’s capable of taking care of himself.”
“I’m sure he is. But after everything he’s been through, I think it’s safe to say his…judgment…might be a little skewed. I just wouldn’t want to see him put his trust in the wrong person, especially now when he’s dealing with so many changes.”
Anger and disbelief pushed their way into Cynna’s chest, mingling with that jealousy that was now a raging hurricane inside. This female didn’t know the first thing about her. Didn’t know why she was here or what she’d done in her past. All she knew was that Cynna had helped Nick escape from Zagreus. And yet she was sitting here, making judgments about Cynna being bad for Nick, when she, with her little sickness and soul mate issue, was continually tormenting him.
“Maybe you’re the one whose judgment is skewed,” she said before she could stop herself. “After all, I hear you’re not feeling so hot.”
“No, I’m not. But that doesn’t change the fact that I care about Nick and don’t want to see him hurt.”
Cynna glanced sharply up. “Care about him or want to use him?”
Surprise spread over Isadora’s already pale face, making her skin look even whiter. “Of course I care about him. He’s my daughter’s uncle.”
Cynna narrowed her eyes and used her gift to search for the truth in Isadora’s words. Yeah, the queen was being honest. She did care for Nick because he was her husband’s brother and her child’s uncle, but there was another reason too. One that Cynna’s gift screamed was rooted in the soul mate curse. One this female would manipulate and use to her advantage to get what she wanted, even if it ultimately destroyed Nick.
Cynna’s heart beat fast, and she looked back down at the baby in her arms, no longer seeing the adorable infant but Nick’s future if she left him. He’d said she kept him centered. That when she was close, he could focus on her, forget about everyone else, forget about what they wanted from him, and fight the darkness from Krónos so he could stay in control. If she left now, he wouldn’t be able to do that. He’d be pulled in a thousand different directions by a hundred different people, and this female would be at the forefront, preying on his weakness for her because of the soul mate curse, slowly tormenting him in a way even Zagreus had never been able to do.
Arms shaking, Cynna quickly handed the baby to the queen and pushed to her feet.
“Where are you going?” Isadora asked, looking up.
“Back to bed. I’m suddenly tired.” And anxious to see Nick. To keep him balanced. To keep him from you.
Frown lines formed between Isadora’s eyes as she jostled Elysia and righted the bottle. “I don’t mean to pry, but you don’t exactly seem comfortable here at the castle. Nick mentioned you have relatives at the settlement. Maybe—”
Oh no. This chick was not kicking her out of the castle. Not now. Not when Cynna had finally decided to stay. “I’ll be fine.”
Not that you ever worried about me. Not that you ever worry about anyone besides yourself.
Cynna fought back the anger and resentment, then turned before she said more and headed for the hall. Working for calm when she felt anything but, she muttered, “Good night.”
“Good night, Cynna,” Isadora said softly at her back. “I’m sure we’ll see more of each other.”
Suddenly, Cynna was sure they would too. And she hated that fact.
Heart pounding, she moved quickly back to Nick’s suite, closed the door behind her, and scanned the darkness. He was still asleep on the gigantic bed, only he’d shifted to his back and was now lying with one hand over his chiseled bare chest, the other resting palm-up on the pillow near his head.
Her skin warmed. Her pulse turned to a roar in her ears. She wasn’t leaving him to that…female. Wasn’t about to let the queen prey on his emotions, his vulnerability, his goodness. She knew in the pit of her stomach that he wouldn’t ever say no to his soul mate, but she could help him stay centered. She could be his distraction. And this time, her desire to help him had nothing to do with guilt for what she’d done while she’d been in Zagreus’s lair. It had only to do with these feelings for him that were already rooted so deeply inside her.
She toed off her shoes and slowly climbed over him on the bed. Her knees brushed the outsides of his hips, and she braced her hands on the mattress on each side of his head. His soft brown eyelashes feathered the skin beneath his eyes, his thin masculine lips were slightly parted and, she knew, whisper soft. She let her gaze dance over him, over every freckle, every scar, every play of bone and angle of his features. And as she did, her heart took a hard, slow tumble in her chest.