Chapter 223: Chapter 223 Do You Love Her
Reginald’s POV
Something’s off with Fiona, and I can feel it in my bones. I keep catching her in my peripheral vision, but every time I try to meet her eyes, she looks away. What the hell is going on?
This isn’t right.
When we stop for lunch and some much-needed rest, I drag Fiona aside. We need to talk.
"Don’t even think about feeding me some bullshit line that nothing’s wrong. Something’s completely fucked up here. What is it?"
I narrow my eyes, searching her face for any crack in that stone-cold mask she’s wearing. But she gives me nothing.
"Nothing’s wrong."
I slam my hands against the wall on either side of her head, caging her in. Her breath hitches slightly, and I lean in close enough to see the flecks of gold in her eyes.
"I already told you—don’t lie to me. Don’t say there’s nothing when it’s written all over your face. You’re going to tell me what the fuck is eating at you."
She inhales sharply, her chest rising against mine, but her answer stays the same. "There’s nothing."
My patience snaps like a rubber band. "I’m done with this attitude, Fiona. What did you expect? Five-star accommodations and a red carpet? We’re in enemy territory, and they don’t trust us yet. That’s how this works. Stop acting like a spoiled princess. I really can’t stand this right now."
But she just presses her lips together in that stubborn way that makes me want to shake her. Her chin tilts up defiantly, and she doesn’t budge an inch.
"I’m asking you one final time—tell me the truth. What’s going on?" My voice drops dangerously low as a wild thought hits me. "Did you sleep with Allen again? Did he force you, or were you willing to spread your legs for some drugs?"
The slap comes so fast I don’t see it coming. The crack echoes in the small space, and for a moment, I’m too stunned to process what just happened. It doesn’t hurt much, but the shock freezes me solid.
"Did you just fucking slap me?"
"You crossed the line, Reginald. Is that really what you think of me? Is that how you’ve seen me this whole time?"
I want to say something, anything, but she’s already shoving me away and storming off before I can get my head straight.
Something twists in my chest—an unfamiliar feeling that I don’t like. I’ve never cared this much about Fiona’s cold shoulder before.
We barely touch our food before we have to hit the road again, heading for the capital city of the Valerium kingdom.
That night, stuck in another pack house, Fiona’s still giving me the deep freeze. At least this place doesn’t have mystery stains on the sheets—they actually look clean enough to sleep on. She looks exhausted, ready to collapse.
But I’m not letting her rest until she spills whatever’s been eating at her all day.
Unfortunately for her, there’s nowhere to run in this cramped room. Just a bed and four walls. Not even a damn couch.
"For fuck’s sake, Fiona, just tell me what the hell is wrong with you!" I’m losing it, running my hands through my hair and slamming my fist into the wall. "Don’t give me that ’nothing’ bullshit again when it’s obvious something’s tearing you apart!"
She grits her teeth, and I can see the words fighting to break free. She’s right on the edge.
"What is it?!" I can practically taste her confession hanging in the air. "WHAT. THE. FUCK. IS. IT?!"
"Do you love her?!" The words explode out of her like a dam bursting. Her whole body shakes. "Do you love her?!"
My blood turns to ice. "What are you talking about?" But even as I say it, I know exactly who she means. There’s only someone who’s ever had that kind of hold on me.
But there’s no way she could know.
"Answer me!"
"I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about," I growl, going on the defensive. "Are you out of your mind? You’re my mate. How could I possibly love someone else?"
She shakes her head, frustrated tears starting to fall. "Cut the crap, Reginald. You won’t admit it." Her voice cracks. "Phoebe. You call her name in your sleep. Over and over. You whisper how much you miss her."
The tears streaming down her face hit me like a physical blow. She looks like someone just ripped her heart out and stomped on it.
"Are you insane? She’s my stepsister and the king’s mate!"
"You’re still not answering my question! Tell me—do you love her?!"
I hesitate for just a split second too long. The lie tastes bitter on my tongue. "I don’t. I don’t love her."
We both know it’s complete bullshit. Fiona actually laughs—a broken, hollow sound that makes my chest ache.
"You think I’m going to buy that? You don’t even believe what just came out of your mouth." Her teeth clench so hard I’m surprised they don’t crack.
She looks at me like she’s seeing me clearly for the first time, and she doesn’t like what she sees.
"You and I both know our mate bond is pathetically weak. You only care about me because I’m useful to you, right?"
She’s right. Chosen mate bonds are never as strong as destined bonds, especially when someone’s heart belongs to someone else entirely.
"Now I understand why I’ve always felt like something was missing between us." That bitter laugh again. "God, I feel like such an idiot."
"I don’t love her," I repeat, but the words are empty. Hollow. How can I deny something that’s been true since we were kids, even when she never noticed?
"You really expect me to believe that?"
