𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐀𝐅𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐅𝐀𝐋𝐋 | 𝟏𝟖+

𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐑𝐓𝐘-𝐎𝐍𝐄 | 𝐀 𝐒𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆

I scowl in shock. "How the fuck do you—"

"You told me about her," she says quickly, cutting me short. "Last night when you were drunk. You said that this was the only way you could get her back."

I pace over to my sword and scabbard laying on the dirt, distracting myself from her conversation by belting it up. How much did I say to her? How much does she know? All those godforsaken memories were meant to stay in the past, because none that matters now. I'm going to reunite with Aspen, and we're going to forget all the shit we've endured over the past ten years.

Except, Imogen keeps talking, and I realize that I told her more than I expected—I told her the whole fucking story.

"You also never mentioned that you came from a noble family," she speaks so nonchalantly, as if my story were some ancient book she picked up in the castle library. "The Parias bloodline—the ones expected to serve closely to the king and queen of Adorid for generations. I never would've guessed that you have a little bit of royalty in you."

I drag a hand along the features of my hungover face. "How much did I tell you?"

She giggles, not getting the hint that I'm not in the mood for her to recite my entire life story. "A lot, " she sticks her tongue out at me, something Aspen used to do all the time. It's a detail I obviously exposed to her.

Now she knows everything about me, every dark and unwanted flaw of my past has resurfaced.

Imogen swallows, then lowers her gaze to her fingers that fidget with her golden rings. "Your sister... I think I've met her before."

"What?"

"Aspen," she says. "You said she was your sister. She's the one that retrieved me after Leighton punished me with a cut."

"You've met Aspen?"

"I should've known. You both have the same kind eyes."

I struggle to fathom the idea of Imogen and Aspen meeting each other out of pure luck. Yet, neither of them realize how entwined they both are to my life. Both of these women are wrapped around my heart, but there is only room for one. I snapped the tether between Imogen, and fortified the hold on Aspen's.

Those two striking moons lift back up to me, a hint of hope in her irises.

Once again, I'm going to shatter her to pieces with one statement: "I don't have Ruslan's crown."

"I know," she breathes.

"There's nothing I can fucking do."

"I know."

"Then what do you want?" my voice cuts through the air, slightly pained with guilt for what I've done. Yet, all the anger that I recall Imogen simmering with has faded away.

Imogen rises from the ground, then moves until she stands before me. I drown in a sea of vanilla, and it takes every muscle in my body to keep myself from kissing those glossy lips.

"Staying here until morning was a foolish decision of mine," she mutters, keeping her voice soft, "but I had to tell you this sober before you run off for good." Imogen's attention drifts off to the meadow where Neph trots happily with another horse—Imogen's horse, I can only assume. "I just want you to know that I will never forgive you for what you've done. You've broken more than just the trust I've given you."

My heart pounds against my ribs. I already knew this. I knew that defying her commands would break every rope that bound us in love. This is a sin I can never cleanse, a wrong I can never repair.