“I don’t trust him.”

My father was frowning, his eyes narrowed. He was angry, and I tried to remember that he was just trying to protect me. It didn't make it any easier to have my father so opposed to my engagement. I wasn't sure why he hadn't seen this coming. Bruce and I had been exclusive for three years, and I'd just finished boot camp. Of course I wanted to be engaged before I reported to Fort Hood.

“You never liked him to start with,” I said.

“And I’ve been clear about why,” my father replied. “I know guys like him. I’ve seen what they do, and who they are. He’s not right for you.”

I sighed and pinched the bridge of my nose. “How about giving him a chance in the first place?”

“You think I don’t know the difference between a man who deserves a chance and a man who doesn’t?”

“You don't know him like I do.” I gave the same protest that I'd been giving since I'd told my parents that Bruce and I were serious.

“I know his type, and I won’t sit around here and watch you throw your life away for him.”

“He's my fiancé, and I'm an adult.” I didn't feel much like an adult at the moment, but I needed to remind my father that I wasn't a child anymore.

“I will not give my little girl to someone who doesn’t deserve her!”

It was only then that I saw the tears in my father's eyes. My father who so rarely cried. It was that more than anything else that got through to me.

“You don’t get it, Honor.” His voice calmed, quieted. “There will be moments in your life when you will jump into things based on pure emotion, and when that happens, when the moment is gone and done with, you’ll be left with nothing but regret and guilt. I just want to spare you that.”

I opened my mouth, wanting to say that I wouldn't regret my decision to marry Bruce, that I knew exactly what I was doing, but the reality was, I couldn’t know for sure if I had made the right decision. All I had to go on was an emotional connection to the only boy I ever loved. That had to be enough.

My father was wrong. He'd see it eventually.

I wouldn't let myself think anything else.

“What have we done?”

The moving bed had woken me, but it was Gracen's anxious question that concerned me more. I sat up in bed, wrapping the sheet around my body, the gesture in equal parts to make sure my tattoo was hidden and because I suddenly felt a lot less confident about being naked in front of him. He was half-dressed, pacing about the room like a mad man.

“What are you talking about?” I asked, still dazed with sleep and a little annoyed at the manner by which I had been forced awake. Images of last night flashed through my mind, and Gracen's nervous manner was quickly dampening the sweetness of the memory.

“This!” He gestured to the two of us. “Us. What we did last night. All of this!”

I clenched the sheets tighter to me, instantly self-conscious. I wondered if this was how drunk people felt when they woke up the next day and found a stranger in their bed. I knew we had a lot to work out, but I never expected to wake up to him freaking out. I forgot about how good last night had felt, my thoughts shifting to more urgent matters, like finding my clothes and escaping. I searched the floor, calculating how fast it would take me to get dressed before Gracen freaked out completely. Too long. Damn eighteenth-century dresses.

“A mistake, that’s what this was,” he muttered, more to himself than to me. “It was a mistake.”

Heat flooded my cheeks. “A mistake?” I asked incredulously. If we'd been drunk, I could've seen that explanation, but we were stone-cold sober. We knew what we were doing and who we were doing it with. “I’m sorry, did I trip and fall naked into your bed before you accidentally rolled on top of me?”

Gracen stopped his pacing and glared at me. “This is not a laughing matter, Honor!”

“Do I look like I’m laughing, Gracen?” I snapped back.

“This was wrong. It shouldn’t have happened.”

I stared at him in utter disbelief, my mind turning with the hundreds of different comebacks I wanted to throw in his face. I couldn’t believe how incredibly naïve I'd been, believing that last night had meant something more than just sex.

“You know what?” I finally said. “You’re absolutely right.”

I threw off the sheet and climbed out of bed, naked, inwardly wincing as Gracen looked away. Bastard. He was obviously ashamed of what we'd done, and while I could understand the ramifications of sleeping with a person while engaged to someone else, he didn't need to be an ass about it. My hands shook as I pulled my dress on, embarrassed that I had lost control of my emotions long enough to get myself into this mess.

“What should we do now?” Gracen glanced over his shoulder and then turned to face me.

I gave him a confused look. “What do you mean?”

“What will we tell my father?” Gracen asked. “How will we explain this?”

I frowned at him. “What the hell are you talking about?” I asked. “We don't have to tell your father anything. It’s clear that what happened last night meant absolutely nothing to you, so let’s just act like it never happened, and we can both go about our lives.”

“Act like nothing happened?” His surprise showed on his face. “How can we act like nothing happened?”

“Just forget it,” I snapped back. “This isn’t the first time I've seen a man act like a bastard after sex.”

Technically, that was true, but I knew it wasn't really comparable. Gracen, however, didn't know that.

He flinched. “What?”

“Did you think this was my first time?” I could hear the bitterness in my laugh. “Oh, don’t worry, Master Lightwood. You're not responsible for taking my virginity, so don't feel like you owe me anything.”

I started to push past him, only to be stopped when he grabbed my arm. My hand curled into a fist, and I barely managed to keep myself from punching him.

“It was a trick,” Gracen hissed at me. “Last night was a ruse. You seduced me!”

I yanked my arm from his grip but didn't back away. “You kissed me,” I reminded him. “You brought me to your room.”

“Trickery,” he said, his lips curling in anger. “You planned it all, didn't you? You intended to get pregnant and trap me into marriage.”

I slapped him even as I felt the color drain from my face. I'd never been so humiliated, having someone accuse me of trying to trick...I couldn't even think of it. Tears stung my eyes. It was one thing to hurt over a miscommunication about what last night had meant to each of us. It was something completely different to be accused of something so manipulative and cruel.

The fact that he could think me capable of such a thing told me that I didn't know him as well as I thought I did.

And that my father had been right. Acting on emotion was stupid, and all I had now was regret.

“I have work to do,” I said. “Excuse me, Master Gracen.” I practically ran from the room before he could respond.

I didn’t want to be anywhere near him right now. In fact, all I wanted was to go home. My real home and time. I didn't want to be here anymore.