My fist slammed into the nightstand hard enough to rattle the lamp. “Damn it! I’ll find you! Whatever it takes!”
Water stopped running in the ensuite bathroom. The hair dryer’s whir filled the silence for several minutes before cutting off.
Camila emerged. Damp golden hair cascaded over bare shoulders. A white towel wrapped around her curves, barely covering what mattered. Her skin glowed pink from the hot water.
“Relly?” Her voice carried genuine concern. “What’s wrong? Work problems?”
1 lifted my head, and something wild blazed in my gray eyes. Something desperate and hungry and completely unhinged. ter 52
Before she could react, I lunged forward and yanked her against me. The towel puddled on the carpet as my mouth crashed against her neck.
“Relly! What’s gotten into-
I shoved her down onto the mattress, my weight pinning her beneath me. “I need you. Right now.
My hands moved over her body with rough desperation. Like I could somehow fill the gaping hole in my chest through pure physical need.
“Relly, slow down-
But I couldn’t slow down. Couldn’t think past the burning ache that consumed every rational thought. I pushed inside her with a groan that sounded more like pain than pleasure.
Camila gasped, startled by my intensity. But her body responded anyway, arching beneath me as I moved with frantic urgency.
I squeezed my eyes shut, lost in sensation and desperation. At the moment of climax, when control shattered completely, a name tore from my throat.
‘Sable… oh God, Sable!”
Camila went dead still beneath me.
Her green eyes flew open, blazing with fury that could have melted steel. She shoved against my chest hard enough to throw me off balance.
‘You just called me by HER name!”
Sable’s POV
‘Sableate! Sableate! Wake up!”
Enthusiastic pounding rattled my bedroom door. Daisy’s voice carried through the wood, bright and eager despite the early hour.
I buried my face deeper into the pillow. My head felt foggy from too little sleep and too many complicated thoughts about last night’s dinner party.
What time is it?
‘Come on! Mary made pancakes! The really fluffy ones with blueberries!”
More knocking, this time accompanied by what sounded like bouncing. Because of course Daisy was literally bouncing with excitement.
–
I sat up, running both hands through tangled hair. My reflection in the vanity mirror looked exhausted – dark circles, pale skin, the general appearance of someone who’d spent half the night staring at the ceiling.
“I’m coming. My voice came out hoarse.
The knocking stopped immediately. “Really? You’re not just saying that to make me go away?”
I found myself almost smiling. “Really.”
I threw on a robe and opened the door. Daisy stood in the hallway wearing a bright yellow dress with matching ribbons in her curls. Her face lit up when she saw me.
“Good morning!” She grabbed my hand without waiting for permission. ‘Daddy’s already downstairs. Mommy made her special coffee – the kind that smells like vanilla.
She tugged me toward the staircase. “Mary said she’d make extra pancakes if you came down quickly.”
I let myself be pulled along, too tired to resist her enthusiasm.
Morning light streamed through the dining room’s French windows, casting golden patterns across the polished marble table. Crystal stemware caught the sunlight. White roses from Mary’s garden filled a silver vase at the center.
The scene looked perfect. Peaceful. Like something from a home decorating magazine.
Dad sat at the head of the table, scrolling through news on his tablet. Reading glasses perched on his nose.
Victoria moved around the table with practiced grace. Her pale blue silk robe flowed as she arranged silverware and napkins.
The smell of fresh coffee and warm bread made my stomach growl despite my sour mood.
‘Sable, sweetheart!” Victoria looked up as Daisy led me into the room. “Come sit here.”
She patted the chair beside her own. “Mary made your favorite blueberry scones.”
Dad glanced up from his tablet. His expression brightened when he saw me, then grew cautious. Like he wasn’t sure what kind of reception to expect.
‘Morning,” he said carefully.
I settled into the indicated chair. Victoria immediately poured coffee from an elegant pot.
I’ve been thinking about your engagement,” she said, adding cream to my cup. “When will the wedding be? The whole kingdom must be so excited.”
Her tone was conversational. Innocent. But something underneath made my shoulders tense.
Dad set down his tablet. “Victoria, maybe we should let Sable wake up properly before-
‘Oh, it’s fine. Victoria waved dismissively. “I’m just naturally curious about such happy news.”
She passed me a small plate loaded with scones. “I only worry that the transition might be… challenging.”
“What do you mean?’ Dad’s eyebrows pulled together.
Victoria sighed, arranging fruit on her own plate. “Becoming queen
– that’s an enormous responsibility. The protocols, the expectations…”
Her gaze found mine. “Not everyone can adapt to royal life, you know.”
I cut into my scone with deliberate precision. “The wedding’s next month. As for adapting…” I met her eyes directly. “I suppose time will tell.”
Dad cleared his throat. “Sable’s an adult, Victoria. She can handle whatever comes her way.”
He turned toward me. “These three years away… what did you do?”
His hand moved toward mine, then stopped halfway. He pushed the jam pot closer to my plate instead.
‘I became a doctor,” I said quietly.
*Being a doctor is important work,’ he continued. “Meaningful.”
Heat built in my chest. The careful way he spoke. The obvious effort to find safe ground between us.
“Yes,” I said quietly. “I chose medicine so other families wouldn’t lose what we lost. So children wouldn’t watch their mothers die while their fathers…” I paused. “While their fathers moved on.”
Dad went very still. “Sable.”
“What? It’s true, isn’t it?” I spread jam on my scone. “I wanted to spare other people that kind of betrayal.”
“You need to stop this.” His voice hardened. “Stop picking at old wounds.”
“Old wounds?” I set down my knife. “Is that what you call Mom’s death? An old wound that should heal and be forgotten?”
Victoria immediately pulled Daisy closer. “Sweetheart, why don’t you go find Mary? See if she needs help in the kitchen.”
But Daisy stayed put, brown eyes wide as she watched the tension building between Dad and me.
‘I never forgot your mother,” Dad said through gritted teeth. “But life doesn’t stop because someone dies. I had responsibilities. A pack to lead. A daughter to raise.”
“A daughter you couldn’t stand to look at because I reminded you of her.”
“That’s not-
“Because looking at me made you feel guilty about whatever you’d already started with Victoria.”
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