The Grave Shadows

36. Hidden Pain

Everett had Cyan on the line, hoping their conversation could turn into something sensual. The girl refused to play along, but her spluttering excuses were cute. Now that they had confessed their true feelings, some peace returned to him. He loved her, and she loved him. No matter what Bill Watts said, regardless of what his brothers wanted, never mind David's paintings—Cyan belonged to him. But the remaining perturbation was Cyan's reaction when all secrets escaped him.

While Everett tempted to brag about this romance, Cyan begged him to keep it quiet, worried about the possible complication. And after what she had been through, attacked by his past mistake, it would be inconsiderate of him to push her. Truthfully, Everett was capable of protecting Cyan from his vengeful exes and stupid and crazy brothers, but her peace of mind was his priority.

Everett yawned, his cheeks sore from smiling. When he hung off the phone, a message from Luke popped up: There is something strange about the suitor list. There's a pattern of getting people on board of sorts. But what doesn't fit is the timeline of the Watts girls.

Everett texted: Because it's not what you think.

As expected, Luke wouldn't let things go easily. But if he were right, Cyan would marry one of Bill Watts's sons. At this point, that one son could only be Everett.

Everett muted the phone and turned off the lights. The dreamland invited him after weeks of restlessness. He tripped to the windows and nudged them open for the breezes. In the dark, Hector—the one son who was ripe enough to settle down—strolled across the lawn. What happened that night concerned all the Watts boys. Everett watched Hector for a moment, wondering if the stroll was leisurely or torpid. Huffing, he grabbed the jacket and slipped out of the room.

***

Hector headed north, gliding on a stone path toward the family cemetery. The bright waxing crescent glinted above him, the sky clear enough to diffuse the violet gloom. In the lawn, the tombstones blinked at their prince.

Hector paused in front of Eleanor's grave, both feet firm and far apart. "I can't believe it's been twenty-six years already," he said without turning back. "Do you know that he married your mother only a year after mine died? Don't get me wrong. Mary was my mother too. She was sweet and kind, and I loved her perhaps more than my own. But I couldn't understand how he did it. You know, recovering so fast and finding someone to replace her so easily. And now, he's about to take the third wife." Hector glanced at Everett and returned to Eleanor's grave. "Do you know why the Watts Cemetery had more women under the ground than men, Everett?"

Everett didn't know the answer. He took some steps to Hector, noticing the silhouette of Colt's and Rosalind's mausoleums behind the veil of cold, grass-scented fog. Colt was the only Watts king who had only one queen. Everett wondered what would become of Hector's heart when he took the throne.

"We're worse than animals." Hector scoffed, his face stern and his emotions sheltered. "We can't hold on to love." The magnificent blue eyes shimmered.

Bill Watts's decision to remarry seemed to reach his beloved son. But Hector was a grown, independent man who should be capable of condoning a broken home. The wars, Everett believed. Six years in service had a profound impact on the heroic Watts boy.

"Hector." Everett placed a hand on the span of Hector's back.

"Can you hurt someone you absolutely love, Everett?" Hector asked.

Everett thought of Cyan and knew that he couldn't—a sigh was his answer.

Hector strutted farther away from Everett, getting closer to Eleanor's tombstone, slipping into some incomprehensible distress. "Look around. It's in our genes." He stretched his arms.

"Moving on is not a crime." Everett stepped forward and caught Hector's shoulder.

"Well, it is." The darkness distorted Hector's laugh. He grabbed Everett's hand and pressed it against his strong bone. "You just don't know it yet, Wolf."