Page 34 of Uncrowned

“Can you take the mask off now so I can eat? Please.”

“I will feed you.”

There was a finality in his tone, but he didn’t sound mad. His mind was made up. He wanted to do this, and he wasn’t going to take no for an answer.

“How long?”

Clinking sounded, but I could sense a pause in what he was doing.

“How long for what?”

“How long have you known me? Or about me?” I turned my face in his direction, even though I couldn’t see him. “You do know me?”

“Months.”

Nodding, I bit my bottom lip.

“I see. Do I know you?”

“No.”

“Have we met?”

Nothing.

“V, why did you do it?” Silence. “It is you. I recognize your voice.”

More time. Fear flared, and that scared girl who lived inside me was cursing my mistake. Should I have not told him I knew? From what I could tell, escaping was impossible. The only chance I had was somehow winning this guy over and convincing him to let me go. Which… also seemed impossible.

Lips pressed into mine—soft yet demanding. When they pulled back, I could still feel V’s breath against my skin. I could smell coffee and that spicy scent. It had me leaning in the smallest amount to breathe more of him in before I could get control of myself.

V cleared his throat, and I could hear him move back.

“You’re smart. You’re observant. I almost answered you. You almost had me.”

“Why did you kill them?”

A good minute passed.

“The design, Penelope. Your parents, John… aside from them deserving death for hurting you, they were collateral. Be content with that. For now, it’s the best answer you’re going to get.”

CHAPTER 13

Vaughn

Silence.

It was the root of power. It’s where the guilty confessed and where pawns confused movement for strategy. Silence always revealed the one who required reassurance.

I had expected Penelope to fill it after our kiss. She didn’t. She let me feed her and sat with me in the quiet.

Content.

Unapologetic.

I had built kingdoms within that stillness. Hell, I had carved my place inside the void. Silence exposed the need for control, and I had mastered it long ago. But Penelope hadn’t tried to control the silence. She’d spent her life surviving it. She’d been shaped by it. And for the first time, I found myself calculating whether perseverance was stronger than mastery.

Was it possible?