Page 82 of A Thief to Die For

Marian takes a sharp breath. Mine feels like it’s been stolen.

Atlas ticks his head at Agatha, and she strides to where I’m still being held immobile by the guards. She leans in, hands cupping my jaw.

The kiss isn’t quick. The tenderness in it confuses me.

Something foreign hits me on the inside. Little explosions of hope and excitement. A warmth swims in my gut.

It feels off. Inauthentic. It doesn’t make sense how I could be feeling that.

It’s because I’m not.

I rear back. No.

Bile rises in my throat. I step on the boots of a guard behind me as I back away. But there’s no escaping this. The connection has taken hold and we’re joined now.

Irreversibly.

Agatha’s flushed face transforms from confusion into a mask of hurt as she picks up on what I’m feeling. Panic. Horror. The sensation of drowning, because I’ve just been tossed headfirst into the deepest pit with no chance of climbing out. ‘What? What’s hap—?’

I reach for her, gripping her hand. Don’t say anything, I beg her with a look. Atlas watches us closely, but I’m done letting him pull my strings.

Agatha swallows, then clears her throat. ‘I want to request a proper honeymoon.’

What?

She gives my hand a squeeze. Trust me.

I’m unnerved. One touch, and I know exactly what she’s doing – getting us out of here so we can talk and figure things out.

Together.

Piece by piece, the weight of how much my world just changed is sinking in. By far, this is the most devastating day of my life.

Atlas hesitates, sharp eyes tracking our every move. Then he lets out a peal of laughter. ‘Brilliant idea. Guards. Accompany Agatha and Ryland to my private cottage, so our happy couple can be alone together.’

Guards jostle Ryland to move, and he barely reacts. His blank eyes stare off into the distance.

It scares me. It’s so unlike him.

Agatha weaves her arm through Ryland’s as if claiming him, and fire erupts behind my sternum. She has no right. Can’t she see he doesn’t want this?

Can’t she see it was supposed to be me?

‘Wait,’ I call. ‘I need to speak with Ryland.’

Atlas opens his mouth to object.

‘No,’ I say angrily. ‘Give me one minute with him. You owe me that much.’

His eyes narrow dangerously at my defiance, but I tear away from the crowd to a quieter spot. Something in me is splitting at the seams. But if I can hold it together long enough for us to regroup, it’ll be okay.

Moments later, I hear Ryland’s boots, following after me. We come face-to-face, and I don’t understand why he won’t look at me. Why he’s still so emotionless, even though it’s me. The seconds are ticking, and I need him to speak. Everyone’s watching. I shift, angling away. ‘Ryland, are you okay?’

His lips pinch.

‘Of course you’re not. I-I’m so sorry he did this. I’m sorry’ – my eyes close – ‘that I didn’t just marry you when we had the chance.’ I choke back a sob. ‘Tell me what to do now.’

‘There’s nothing we can do.’ His voice is flat. ‘The connection … it worked.’