He just wished he could undo the last few months. How could anyone fuck up their life so bad, so fast?
His stomach drew so tight that for a moment, he feared he’d vomit. He’d never meant for any of this to happen.
It’s what you get for being a jackass. The only reason he’d ever accepted Alura’s invitation to dinner had been to make Ember crazy. To hurt her as much as she’d cut him.
Yeah, and how’s that working for you, champ?
Bastien cursed himself silently for this blunder. To this day, he didn’t know what he’d done to piss off Ember so completely. Everything had been going great between them.
Until he’d ruined it all by proposing. That horrific memory was still enough to shrivel his gut with horror and degradation.
It’d been the most perfect night when he’d taken Ember to her favorite dance club. Had paid an exorbitant amount to have the rooftop decorated like it was free-floating in space—a fantasy she’d once confided to him that she’d carried since childhood. And there, while her favorite song had played, he’d held out his grandmother’s ring and asked her to marry him.
He’d expected an enthusiastic yes.
Instead, she’d stared at the ring as if it had poisonous fangs and was coiled to strike at her. It’d been the longest pause of his life, while half the club looked on and he knelt, waiting … and waiting.
Finally, she’d stepped back and swallowed hard. “Bas … I…”
His stomach had hit the ground as he dreaded for her to finish that sentence. “You, what?”
“I’m not ready to settle down yet. And I know you’re not. I think we should take a break first, and really consider this.”
Nothing had ever gutted him like those words. She might as well have cut out his heart and shoved it down his throat. Especially when she turned on her heel and left him there like a complete and utter dumbass.
Which was nothing compared to the next morning when he’d met the lance corporal holding his gear and warning him about his new orders.
And squad.
Yeah, that still stung him to the core of his being. In part because Lil continued to treat him like her personal bitch. Every day since then, his sister had made his life a living hell. Mostly because Lil thought it was hilarious that he’d had his nuts handed to him by a mere pleb. She thought it was what he deserved for dating outside their elite aristocratic circle.
But social standing had never mattered to him. Nor had rank. All he’d seen in Ember was the courageous woman he’d die for.
The woman he’d wanted to spend the rest of his life worshiping and making happy. So the ruthless banishment from her life had come as the worst sort of agony.
Weeks had turned into months as he waited desperately for her to change her mind. She’d barely spoken to him. Every time he attempted contact, she cut him off with bitter barbs and ire.
Now …
Ember would hate him forever.
It wouldn’t matter that he’d asked her permission to have dinner with Alura before he’d ever accepted her sister’s invitation.
Everything would be his fault. And it was.
I should have gelded myself.
Because he had royally screwed up this time. And the look on his mother’s beautiful face as he entered her private chambers said that she was in complete and total agreement. Yet only someone who knew her as well as Bastien did would see her disappointed irritation in those regal green eyes. That strategically poised ethereal beauty that never betrayed a single emotion of any kind. One thing about his maternal unit—she was forever elegant. Forever composed. Not one pale blond hair was out of place. Not one vibrant green fiber of her gown was mushed or crinkled.
And only Lia Triosan ydyra Cabarro could pull off a smile that was both warm and chilling at the same time.
“There you are, minn s’enn. Alura was just telling me that she’s Ember’s younger zusa?”
“She is.” He glanced around the room. “Where is she?”
His mother jerked her chin toward her bedroom. “Changing.” Then she lowered her voice to a barely audible whisper. “What were you thinking?”
“That I wanted Ember and she wouldn’t have me.”
His mother scowled at him. “You loved her that much?”
He gaped at the question. How could she have doubted it? Was she totally blind?
Shaking her head, she pressed her gloved hand to her brow. “I’ll never understand you, Bastien, and this strange penchant you have for picking up strays. Aros and your saeir are right. I coddled you too much when you were a boy.”
He snorted at her words. “Uncle Aros is in no position to give anyone parenting advice. At least I’m still speaking to my parents. Jullien barely tolerates being in the same room with him. As for Sa … I’ve always said that my only goal in life was to be his burden and to give the two of you something scandalous to talk about at cocktail parties.” He glanced to the closed doors. “Mission accomplished … with panache.”
“Not the time to be flippant.”