I manage to get through the rest of the final week of the semester without insecurity rearing its ugly head again. But of course, it had to wait until the last day of semester to appear.

“Hey, Jazmine, how’s it going?”

I turn from my locker to see Devon stop in front of me as he passes by.

Other than seeing him in calculus, I haven’t really spoken to him since that night of the Fall Ball. He hasn’t brought up going out again in any of those brief conversations in class, and he hasn’t tried to text or call. I’m certain it has everything to do with Raph’s less than subtle exhibitions of the claim that he’s staked on me and of course, god only knows what kind of warnings Raph’s been doling out to his team in the locker rooms. Because every time a member of the soccer team passes me, they fix their eyes directly on the floor, as if they’re scared out of their minds that they’ll turn to stone if they so much as look at me the wrong way or just scared out of their minds of Raph more likely.

“Hi, I’m good, you?” I reply politely.

Devon fidgets for a moment and suddenly I feel awkward. Because part of me does feel bad about agreeing to go with him to that party after the Gramercie game and to the Fall Ball, when my mind was on Raph. But I was in denial back then and Raph had made it clear he didn’t want me. In hindsight, I should’ve known that it couldn’t have turned out any other way between Raph and me. That from that first moment on the beach, we were headed on a collision course right into each other’s arms. As wrong as that might be.

“I’m okay,” Devon replies, and the awkwardness dissipates as we talk about class and the holidays. I’d forgotten how easy going and nice Devon is. Although I didn’t really get a chance to get to know him that well, it must’ve been part of the reason why I, for a moment, thought that I might want to.

“Anyway, I should get going. But it was nice talking to you. It got kind of awkward back then after the Fall Ball, but you’re a great girl, Jazmine, I hope we can be friends,” he says finally.

“Sure,” I reply casually. “I’m glad we got a chance to catch up, too,” I add honestly. “I wanted to speak to you after the Fall Ball to explain things, but I thought you’d be mad at me, you know because of what happened afterwards with Raph …” I trail off and kick myself for mentioning it.

Devon’s expression falters for a second, but he flashes another easy smile.

“Don’t worry about it. I knew what I was getting myself into. I kind of suspected there was more to it between you guys, even if nothing was going on at the time. I mean Raph wouldn’t just go around warning every guy in school off a girl unless he’s wanting to stake his claim.”

I feel a surprising warmth at those words, because it reminds me that whatever it is that Raph feels for me, it goes further back than I had let myself acknowledge.

Devon seems to be deciding on whether to say something, and I eye him curiously.

“Take care of yourself, Jazmine. Like I said, you’re a nice girl—too good to be Raph’s latest slam piece.”

There’s no malice in his words, just genuine, friendly concern. But the words are crude all the same, and I feel sick at the thought.

Is that what everyone in school thinks of me? Raph’s latest slam piece? I don’t usually give a crap about what other people think, but I can’t deny that the label stings. More so than the outcast label he’d slapped on me that first day I walked on campus. In fact, I’d trade this label for that one in a heartbeat.

I realize how naïve I’ve been. As much as I try to deny it, I like Raph’s public displays of affection, the unabashed way he stops to kiss me in the middle of a crowded hallway or in the cafeteria, not caring who’s looking. I thought it was his way of showing everyone that he doesn’t care who knows about us. But all its showing people is that I’m Raph’s latest piece on the side in what is a sickeningly long line of girls. Of course, everyone here knows that Raph is still betrothed to Layla and that any other girl is just his entertainment on the side. But she’s his queen. Always has been, always will be.

I tell myself to calm down, though, because I’m jumping to conclusions here. I remind myself of those moments when Raph and I are alone and he’s looking at me as if … as if I’m the only person in the entire universe that matters. I remind myself of the way he kisses me, that tells me there’s so much more to this thing between us than just lust. If that’s all he wants from me, he wouldn’t be waiting until I’m ready to have sex, he’d have made that move already and no matter how much I try to deny it, I know deep down that I’m in so deep with him, that I would have let him. Hell, I offered it to him on a plate just a couple of days ago and still he wants to wait.

But the doubts don’t disappear entirely, because I also still remember what Raph told me before our first kiss—that none of this could ever really matter. With all that has happened since, the passion burning away my reason, the hunger blinding me to reality, I seem to have forgotten the cold hard truth, or at least shoved it aside whenever it reared its ugly head, like I’m trying to do right this very minute.

I’m saved from having to say anything because I feel Raph’s presence behind me. He fixes that icy glare on Devon, the one that he fixed on me that very first day on the beach, the one that reminds me what we were to each other back then and perhaps what we should have kept being, if either of us had any sense.

“Hey, Raph.”

“Devon,” Raph replies coolly.

Devon gets the message.

“See you, Jaz,” he says, as he begins backing away. “Take care of yourself,” he says again, referring back to what he said earlier. He doesn’t have to. The words are emblazoned in my mind.

But I don’t let any of those insecurities show in my face as I turn to Raph. I stiffen a little when he kisses me lightly. But thankfully, not enough for Raph to sense that something’s wrong.

“What did Devon want?” he asks, point blank. His possessiveness would be endearing, if it wasn’t for the fact that Devon’s earlier words are still ringing in my mind. Four words in particular—Raph’s latest slam piece.

“Nothing. He just wanted to catch up,” I reply casually.

Some part of me wants to confront him right here and now about this latest label. But another part of me is telling me that I shouldn’t care what other people think of what’s happening between us, as long as Raph and I know the truth about what we are to each other. And what is that exactly? The cruel voice in the back of my mind whispers. But I shove it aside because the middle of a school hallway is not the time and the place to be having this conversation.

“So what, you two are best friends now?” Raph, however, doesn’t seem to be so concerned about causing a scene.

It’s not the first time Raph’s acted jealous. Hell, he starts growling at Baron like a caveman whenever he finds us hanging out together in the kitchen some mornings. As much as I try to deny it, I usually like the feeling that he cares enough to get jealous. But right now, it just pisses me off. Because who the hell is he to get jealous when the list of girls that he’s been with is probably longer than Santa’s freaking Christmas list and I’ve only ever been with one guy—him. Only him. Plus, there’s the fact that he’s still betrothed. As in promised to marry someone else.

This time, I can’t keep the frown from my face, but Raph interprets it as me being pissed about his cave man ways.

He lets out a long breath.

“Sorry, Jaz. You know I can’t think straight whenever any other asshole gets within two feet of you.”

He pulls a face of exaggerated repentance, which makes me laugh, despite my mood. God, I must be demented.

“So, you’re the only asshole who gets to come near me?” I keep my tone light, but the words aren’t exactly a joke.

“Hell, yes,” he replies, throwing an arm around my shoulders as we walk out of the main building. “Because I’m your asshole.”

I don’t want those words to mean anything, but I’m stupid and foolish, so they do. I still haven’t forgotten about Devon’s words. I know that Raph and I are going to need to have this conversation, but that same foolish part of me delays the inevitable.

And as he leans down to touch his lips against mine again, I don’t feel like talking at all.

“And you’re mine, Jaz,” he murmurs against my lips. “All mine.”

The words wrap themselves around me and just for that moment, I let myself believe it.

* * *

I’m rummaging in the fridge for a snack when I hear the front doors open. The guys all have an end of semester soccer meeting, so I expect to see Keller or Ivy walk in. Layla has a useful knack of avoiding me when I’m downstairs, although I don’t miss her death stares at school.

Unfortunately, Layla’s avoidance tactic doesn’t seem to be working today, because it’s she who walks in through those doors.

But when she fixes her eyes on me from across the reception hall, I get the feeling that this run-in is a very deliberate one.

I school my face blank and ignore her completely as I close the fridge door. Suddenly, I’m not so hungry. But before I can make a beeline for the stairs, Layla intercepts me.

“How’s it going, Jazmine?” she asks.

I blink in surprise, because this girl hasn’t said a single civil word to me since I arrived in Eden and now she’s asking me how I’m doing? Bizarre is an understatement.

“Fine,” I reply evenly. But I narrow my eyes in suspicion, because I’m not convinced by her seemingly neutral manner. Not convinced at all.

And I’m right not to be, because from her next words, it’s apparent that her claws are definitely still out.

“Fine? I would’ve thought you’d be more than fine. I mean with all that time that Raph’s been spending in your bed … a slut like you must be having the time of her life.”

I picture myself pulling chunks of golden hair out of her pretty little head and gouging those pretty green eyes out, but I stop myself. She isn’t worth it.

I’ve been expecting this confrontation since that night of the Fall Ball. In fact, now that I think about it, I’m surprised it hasn’t happened sooner. Layla must be losing her touch. Whatever. I don’t have time for it.

I let out a sigh and move to step past her. She doesn’t let me go that easily.

“Get out of my face, Layla,” I say through gritted teeth, trying to hold onto whatever self-control I have left.

“I’m not finished with you, slut,” she replies with a sickening smile.

I roll my eyes, although I can feel my patience waning. Fast.

“Okay. What? Why don’t you just get all those insults that you’ve clearly been saving up off your chest. I promise I’ll try to keep a straight face.”

Layla’s eyes narrow in response, and her voice is eerily calm when she opens her mouth next, although her words are far more lethal.

“You know, as much as I’d like to do that, I don’t think I need to. You know what you are—I don’t need to tell you.”

“Oh, yeah and what am I?” I ask, although the last thing I want is for her to answer.

“You’re a shiny new toy that’s just happened to catch Raph’s attention—for now. This … fascination of his? It’s temporary.”

I try to block out her words but I feel them cut into flesh all the same.

“He’ll play with you for a while, use you to keep himself entertained. Raph loves the chase and life can get pretty boring for us Dynasty heirs with all these rules and obligations—not that you’d know, because you’re not really one of us.

“Then he’ll toss you aside once he’s bored of you. Just like all the others. I’m sure you’re not foolish enough to think that there haven’t been other girls before you—many, many girls before you. I mean, I don’t blame those girls, or you, for that matter. It’s probably good while it lasts, in fact …”

She flashes me a wicked smile which makes my stomach churn.

“From my own personal experience, I know just how good it is. So. Very. Good.”

If I felt sick before, then I’m pretty sure that now I’m on the verge of throwing up.

The look she gives me is almost sympathetic.

“That is, until it ends. Because it always ends. There’s no other possibility.

“Raph knows, just like I know, just like every damn person on this entire planet knows, that Raph is mine and I’m his. Always has been, always will be.

“It doesn’t matter who he warms his bed with and equally, it doesn’t matter who’s in mine. Because at the end of it all, he’ll be on that throne and I’ll be right there next to him. That’s how this fairy tale ends.”

She studies my expression, and as much as I try to, I can’t keep the devastation from showing through.

“But you knew that already, didn’t you, Jazmine? If I didn’t think you were such a worthless slut, I’d feel sorry for you. Life after Raph gets bored with you? Well, I think you know what that’s going to feel like, in fact, I think it keeps you up at night.

“I get it, though. Raph—well, he’s the personification of the element that he lords over. Like the sun itself. When his attention is on you, it’s like having the sun beaming down on you, but when it’s gone … well, he can cast quite a shadow."

Layla pauses then for effect.

“But who knows, I could be wrong. It’s unlikely. But I could be. Raph could decide that you’re entertaining enough to keep you around in the long term. But even if he does, you’ll always just be a girl to warm his bed at night. During the day, in all the ways that really matter, it’ll be me by his side and you’ll have to watch from the gutter where you belong, as he rules Eden with me beside him.

“You’ll be nothing more than Raph’s dirty little secret. Just like you were your daddy’s. Because Raph may not care who knows about you right now, but it will be an entirely different matter when he ascends to the throne. Ironic, isn’t it? You going from being one king’s dirty little secret to another’s?”

I tell myself her words are poison. Lies. But they hit home all the same, because they echo the doubts, the insecurities that have been raging in my own mind since that first kiss. Still, because I’m foolish, I still try to deny it.

“Shut up, Layla. You don’t know what you’re talking about and you sure as hell don’t know Raph—"

She cuts me off with a mocking laugh.

“What? I don’t know Raph the way you do?” She flashes me a cruel smile.

“Oh, honey, you’re right about that. I don’t know him the way you do—I know him better,” she says.

“I’ve known Raph his entire life. You’ve known him for two minutes.

“Raph’s all messed up because of his mommy issues. He goes through these phases where he hates his privileged life, hates his Dynasty, hates his throne, hates his father and all the pressures he puts on him. But at the end of it all, Raph was raised for that throne. Privilege, duty, obligation—it’s all that Raph knows. It’s what makes him who he is.

“If you really knew him, knew just how sick and twisted he is, then you’d stay the hell away from him. Raph is his father’s son. Anyone who believes otherwise is a fool—are you a fool, Jaz?”

It’s a rhetorical question but I answer it in my own mind anyway. Yes. I’ve been a fool. I am a fool.

I’ve been working hard to keep my face from showing just how deep Layla’s words are cutting, but I can’t hide it now and to my horror, I can feel the moisture pooling in my eyes. From the gleeful look on Layla’s face, she sees it, too.

I’m saved from breaking down right in front of this girl who hates the very air I breathe, and who’s just torn up any last shred of hope, when the front door swings open.

Raph, Baron and Lance walk through. Their eyes dart between me and Layla and I’m sure they sense the tension. Raph’s eyes go to me instantly, but I don’t stick around to hear what he has to say.

Without another word, I turn and run up those stairs, away from Raph, from Layla, from the rest of the Dynasty heirs and their sick and twisted world that I want no part of.

* * *

It takes Raph all of two minutes after I step through the threshold, to follow me into my room.

I sense him come through the door. But I keep my back to him as I attempt to compose myself. I busy my hands with finishing my packing before the car that Magnus has sent for me comes to collect me later that evening.

Raph says nothing at first, but I sense him coming towards me. His strong arms wrap around my waist, and for a second, I let myself lean back against his chest, let myself feel his warmth, let myself feel his strength.

He drops a kiss to my shoulder, and when he breaths me in, I think I feel my chest crack, because I’ve always loved how much he seems to love the very scent of me, like he needs it more than he needs air to breathe. I’m reminded of that night on the beach after the Gramercie game, when he held me just like this, and told me afterwards that he didn’t want me. If I’d been smart, I’d have walked away right then and there.

Layla’s words are still playing themselves in my mind and I feel sick to my stomach. He told me once that he didn’t have more to give, that it wasn’t his to give, but I’d carried on regardless, willing to take whatever pieces of him I could have. I never thought that I’d be this girl—the bit on the side.

But I guess that’s what I’ve become and the thought of it makes me want to jump in the nearest shower and wash every trace of Raph off me. What makes it more sickening is the fact that I’m probably just living up to everyone’s expectations. Raph, Dani and Keller know the truth, but everyone else probably still thinks that it makes perfect sense that someone with my past would jump into bed with Raph the first opportunity she got, even if the guy basically treated me like shit for those first few weeks. It’s so pathetic, I would laugh, if I didn’t feel like crying.

I find a sliver of resolve from somewhere deep inside me, and force myself to step away.

“What’s wrong, Jaz?” Raph asks gently.

I don’t answer him because I don’t know where to start. We haven’t really talked about what the hell is happening between us since that day in the pool, and even then, there wasn’t much talking. I’ve been too busy letting Raph strip me of my senses. I’m not going to let that happen now.

Maybe I didn’t think it was the right time to talk about this earlier, after Devon’s words to me. But after what Layla just said? It sure as hell is the time now.

“What am I to you, Raph?” I ask simply.

Raph’s face softens and I feel like clawing my eyes out, so I can’t see that tenderness in his eyes.

“You’re mine, Jaz.” He repeats those words from earlier, reaching out to touch his fingers to my cheek. Layla’s words ring in my mind then—Raph belongs to her and she belongs to him. Layla is his. Not me.

I jerk back before he can make contact and his eyes cloud over. I tell myself not to care and when I speak again, I throw words at him like chips of ice.

“Your what? Your latest fling? Your piece on the side? Or better yet, as people at school seem to be calling me—your latest slam piece.”

Raph’s eyes flare, and he looks furious. I can practically feel the air around him heating with white rage.

“My what? Who the fuck said that?”

His anger is good in a way, because it means he had no idea about any of it and that it wasn’t his intention for people to see me that way at all. But still, it does little to ease the burning inside me.

“It doesn’t matter because it’s what I am, isn’t it? Your latest bit of entertainment, until you get bored with me?”

To his credit, Raph looks distraught at my words. Furious but distraught.

Raph takes a deep breath, in what seems to be an attempt to calm himself.

“Is this about what I just saw downstairs? Did Layla say something to you?” he asks evenly.

My temper rises and everything that I’ve been holding back these past weeks comes rising to the surface with it.

“Maybe it is, but she didn’t say anything that I haven’t already been thinking about—for a while now.”

“And what’s that?” he demands, his anger barely in check now.

“The fact that all those weeks ago you told me that you can’t actually be with me in the way that really matters, in the way that you think I deserve because your life doesn’t belong to you and there’s nothing more you can give me. But despite all of that, I ignore all sense and reason and I still let you climb into bed with me every night, let you kiss me, touch me, even though it can never be anything more than just that. God, I must seem so pathetic right now. I bet you’ve heard this so many times before from all of those other girls who jumped into bed with you in the past, knowing full well that it can never be about anything more than just sex.”

Raph catches me by the shoulders and locks his eyes directly onto mine.

“Is that what you think this is?” he asks.

I don’t answer him. I don’t think I need to.

“You have no idea.” He leans his forehead against mine and this time I’m too tired to push him away.

He lets out a long breath, closing his eyes for a second as if gathering strength from somewhere inside himself.

“What I feel for you, Jaz? It scares the shit out of me.”

His voice sounds hoarse with emotion and for a moment everything inside me stills. For a moment, I feel like I can’t even breathe.

His words floor me and I know I feel the same way. But despite how much I want that to be enough—it isn’t. It doesn’t make Layla’s words any less true.

“But it doesn’t change the truth of what you told me before—that none of this can ever matter.”

“I know that’s what I said. But now …”

He shakes his head.

“Now, it feels like it’s the only thing that matters.”

His words echo my own feelings towards him to such an extent, that it’s almost frightening.

“I told you before that my entire future was planned out for me from the moment I was born. My life was meant to be fucking perfect, but every day I lived it before you, felt like I was alive but not really living.

“You weren’t part of the plan, Jaz. For the first time in my life, I have no idea what the hell is going to happen. But I’ve never felt so alive. Being with you, wanting you, has made me come alive. You make me come alive.

“I can’t even pretend that this isn’t a mess. But it’s a fucking beautiful mess … and I don’t know how I know this, but I’m certain that I’ll never be able to give this up.”

I open my mouth to say something, but close it again, because I can’t think of a single objection. Devon’s words, Layla’s words, my own warnings, none of it seems to matter anymore and that cliff that I have been standing on the edge of? I’ve fallen right off it. But I was wrong to be scared, because Raph is there to catch me, and he’s here now. With me.

“I told you before that my life doesn’t belong to me, it belongs to my Dynasty, to my throne. But I don’t know how that can be true anymore because I’m certain that from the first moment I saw you on that beach, I’ve belonged to you.”

Layla was wrong about him, I let myself think then. Raph isn’t his father’s son. He’s his own person with his own choices—and he belongs to me.

I have no words that can even come close to what I want to say. So, I kiss him instead and I know he can feel the meaning of my unspoken words in that kiss by the way his powerful body quakes with the impact of it.

All my life I’ve been running. Drifting from one place to another like a ghost. But as Raph’s arms tighten around me, holding me so close to him as if he’s terrified at the very thought of me leaving, I feel something that I’ve never felt before. Like after all those years of running, of searching for something, although I never knew what, I’ve found it. I’ve found where I belong—and it’s here. With him. In these arms, and I don’t have to run anymore.

He leans his forehead against mine, his hands cupping my cheeks and when he speaks, it’s with those endless blue eyes locked onto mine, looking into my very core and his words mirror everything that I feel there.

“I told you on that first night that you didn’t belong here. But it was only because I knew from that first moment exactly where you belong. You don’t need to run anymore because you belong with me now, Jaz. You always have.”

All the doubts, all the questions just fade away. For good this time, leaving only the two of us in the vastness of time and space.