Kindel hugged her. “Don’t think about it. We’re always here for you.”
“And if it helps, remember that Bastien asked you to marry him. His honor forced him to marry Alura.”
Brand was right. But Ember couldn’t quite give her the whole victory. “Yeah, but it was his wandering prick that got him into this.”
Cinder draped herself against Ember’s back so that she could laugh and whisper in her ear. “That we can fix, blyta zusa. Give me a knife and five seconds.”
Leaning back into her arms, Ember smiled up at her. “Love you.”
“You, too.” Cinder kissed her cheek.
“So what mischief are my girls plotting? And don’t say nothing. I know that evil twinkle in those devious eyes.”
Ember wrinkled her nose at her mother. Though she had dark curly hair like Kindel’s, her mother’s features were closer to Cinder’s and Ashley’s. “They were thinking up ways to ensure that Alura’s child was an only.”
Their mother tsked at them, but then that was what Charlotte Wyldestarrin did best. As a decorated colonel for the Kirovarian Gyron Force—their elite fighter corps—she often said she could wrangle a platoon of soldiers easier than her six unruly daughters. “Well, if you do decide to make a move, don’t get any blood on those dresses. Your aunt Tish wants you to wear them for her daughter’s wedding next year.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Kindel said with a sharp salute. “I shall keep our troops in line.”
“See that you do, Major.” With an adorable wink, their mother headed back to where their father waited.
Then Ember made the mistake of catching Bastien’s gaze.
And the hunger in those hazel eyes scorched her. A hunger he quickly squelched and blinked away as if he realized how obvious and inappropriate it was.
Her stomach hit the floor. And she hated how much she wanted to be the bride beside him. Damn, he looked edible in those elegant clothes that fit his lean, ripped body in a way that should be outlawed. There was no sign of the incredibly powerful and capable soldier she knew him to be. He was all regal visir tonight.
Except he lacked his brother’s overt haughty snobbery. With Bastien, his patrician bearing was casual and innate. Good-natured and inviting.
While his siblings refused standard military housing, citing a special need for privacy, Bastien insisted on it. If it was good enough for his people, then he deemed it more than appropriate for himself. He never tried to wiggle past curfew. Never used his regal standing to eat in the better mess halls or to leave base for his food.
She’d only seen him pull rank when someone was abusing their own authority over someone else. Then it was on, and he was quick to slap them down and defend the underdog.
He was wonderful that way.
And the bitter longing in those hazel eyes as he tried not to watch her burned her to the core of her soul. Like Cinder had said, he wasn’t getting married tonight out of choice.
But that didn’t take the sting out of his betrayal.
You’ll get through this, old girl.
She didn’t know how. But she would.
*
Bastien scowled as he saw his uncle leaving the balcony where Alura had gone a few minutes ago for some fresh air. He didn’t know why, but something about that bothered him.
Curious, he went to check on his “wife.”
No sooner had that title gone through his head than his stomach heaved involuntarily, threatening to undignify him. God, would his body ever stop doing that? What kind of marriage were they going to have if every time he thought about her as his spouse he had a spontaneous need to vomit?
Not wanting to think about it, he stepped outside to find Alura in the moonlight. She was beautiful, he’d give her that much. Hell, physically she might even be the most attractive of the Wyldestarrin brood, but she wasn’t the one who made his heart race.
The one who made him feel alive. It wasn’t her smile that hardened him to the point of madness. For all her beauty, she left him strangely numb.
“You okay?”
She smiled up at him as she stepped closer and placed her hand to his chest. “Of course. Why do you ask?”
He gestured over his shoulder toward the direction where his uncle had gone. “Barnabas is an acquired taste. I’m told my sa once left him tied to a tree out in the woods to die when they were kids because he couldn’t keep his mouth shut and kept aggravating him. Bastard unfortunately survived.”
She laughed. “You don’t mean that.”
Bastien rubbed at his jaw as he considered it. “I don’t know. Even my ?dara tried to kill him once.”
“No! Did she really?”
He smiled at the memory. “Oh yeah. It was a summer when I was six or seven. My dad had sent me and my siblings and cousin Jullien out to train with him for camp. Poor Julie couldn’t keep up.”
“Julie?”
“The Andarion who was here earlier.”
“Oh. I wondered who’d invited that big fat thing to my wedding.”
Bastien stiffened at her disdain. “He takes enough shit from people over his heritage. He doesn’t need it from family, too.”