"You must have gone through a major life and death scenario to be with him, did you not?"
The words fell from Damon's lips like ground glass laced with honey. Sweet to the ear, grating to the throat.
Arkai recognized the threat immediately. His black eyes, already bleeding to crimson, tracked the faint tremor in Cecilia's hand where Damon still held it. The kiss. The lingering grip. The smile that was too gentle.
This man.
Arkai knew Damon Iondora. The Crown Prince's relationship with his own sister Angela was like a festering wound that had never properly healed. That alone would have been enough to mark him as questionable.
But now there was the matter of the Emperor's assassination. Suspicion clung to him, and Arkai knew that where there was smoke, someone had usually been careless with fire.
But this…
The sentence meant more than one thing.
First, Damon knew.
