Chapter 49

Juliet woke up in the dark to a buzzing sound. Her head was on a pillow, and a blanket covered her. She wore a nightgown Calum must’ve gotten for her and had an IV in her arm. Snoring told her Rafe was asleep nearby. She lay in a furnished bedroom hooked up to a monitor keeping track of her heart rate and pulse. Through the window, a pinkish cast told her it was almost dawn.

The buzzing sounded again, and she shifted. A man stood at the end of her bed. Tall with dark skin and a piercing gaze that cut through the shadows. She pushed herself up, ignoring the dinging from the machine. “You’re Arragon?”

He hit his chest with a fist and bowed his head. “Aye, my lady.”

She heard the buzzing for a third time, and a light flickered in his other hand. “You have my cell phone.”

“You’ve been receiving texts from a warrior.”

“I’ve received them off and on since Rafe left eight years ago.” She coughed and reached for the water next to her bed. Her throat felt like it had been scraped out. “I sent him one earlier tonight, asking for help, thinking they were from you.”

“They’re not.”

Arragon handed her the phone.

A glooming peace this morning with it brings. The sun, for sorrow, will not show his head. Go hence, to have more talk of these sad things.

“They’re from the warrior you met as children.”

“Sebastian? I don’t understand.”

“Sebastian was once the Prince of our brotherhood until he failed to find Anne’s Lament. After a contest in the Gauntlet, another warrior—our current Prince—took his place.”

“What happened to Sebastian?”

“He was allowed to leave the Fianna and find a new life.”

“A new life that included watching me.” She coughed. “I thought no one left the Fianna alive?”

“One of the few perks of being the Prince.” Arragon sat on the edge of her bed, and the mattress sagged. “Did Sebastian ask Romeo to swear loyalty to him?”

“Yes.” She wiped her cheeks with her hands. “Why has Sebastian been texting me?”

“To protect you. You’re the beloved of two men who swore him loyalty. ’Tis his privilege to protect you.”

Two men? She rested her head against the headboard. “My daddy?”

“Your father understood the part the Capel family and the Fianna has played over the centuries to protect the secret of the lily.”

“Sebastian tried to kill us.”

“His intent was to scare, never hurt.”

She ran her hands over her head, her fingers catching in the tangled curls. Arragon’s explanation made sense. Her father’s paranoid fears had been true, and she’d dismissed him as crazy. “I wish I’d known.”

“Your father wanted you to find your own life and not be bound to the land.”

Except she’d been a terrible daughter who’d ended up condemning the man she loved to a life he’d never wanted. “The Fianna took Rafe instead.”

“Yes.” Arragon leaned forward, his forearms resting on his thighs. “Because of Rafe’s oath to Sebastian, I was tasked with Romeo’s recruitment.”

“Now that I know, I can fix this. I can take over where my father left off. You don’t need Rafe anymore.”

“It’s too late.”

She grabbed Arragon’s arm. Hard muscles tensed beneath the leather jacket. “There must be a way. Please. Help me find it.”

He kissed the back of her hand and stood. “Only healing the past can save the future.”

“I don’t know what that means. Please.” She glanced at Rafe’s prone body on the small couch. The fact that he hadn’t woken up proved how exhausted he was. “Help me save him.”

“What you did last night took great courage. You sacrificed yourself to defeat Balthasar.”

“I did it to save those I love.”

“You will be rewarded.” Arragon started to leave, his walk even more graceful and elegant than Rafe’s.

“Wait.” She hated herself for asking, was ashamed for having doubts, but she needed the answer. “Rafe’s tattoos. Are they real?”

Arragon looked back. “That’s not the question you should ask.”

Now he sounded like Rafe. “Then what should I ask?”

“Have you read Romeo’s journal?”

She shrugged. “What I could.”

“Did you notice the numbers on each page?”

“Yes.” She sat up higher. “What do they mean?”

“The numbers on the right are an accounting of every man he’s killed.”

“Oh.” She hadn’t expected that. That number had been over three hundred. “The other one was over four thousand.”

“As of today, five thousand one hundred and fifteen.” Arragon picked something up from the dresser and laid it on her bed. Hume’s History of England. Then he opened the door and glanced back. “The number of days Romeo has loved you.”

* * *

Rafe stretched and fell off the love seat. Considering his aches from forcing his large frame on the tiny couch, he should’ve slept on the floor. Sunlight streamed into the room, and he checked his watch. Nine a.m. Three hours left.

Juliet lay on her side, hands beneath her cheek. The IV dripped, and the monitors hummed. The doctor had assured him she’d be fine. But he wanted to see her blood work. Hopefully, the Prince would allow it.

After using the attached bathroom, he found his leather jacket on a dressing chair. His journal and misericord lay beneath. Arragon. Rafe stowed the sword and book in the jacket pocket and left the blue ribbon on her pillow. Leaving her yesterday had destroyed him. Today? He’d walk away hollow and empty. A situation he dreaded, since the only things that filled those holes were aggression and violence. His throat tightened. He’d trade anything to leave the Fianna, but he had no leverage. The only thing the Prince wanted was Rafe’s return.

He pressed his lips against hers. More a brushing than a kiss. He traced her bare shoulder with his thumb. He’d had no choice but to come home after Leavenworth, but if he’d known this was the hell destined for him, he would’ve stayed in the shadows. It killed him to admit that Escalus had been right. Rafe never should’ve sought her out. He’d fallen in love with her all over again.

Rafe slipped his gun in his back waistband and turned to find Philip blocking the doorway.

“You’re leaving?”

Rafe led his brother into the hall and closed the door. “I don’t want to. I have to.”

“I don’t understand. You’re stronger than all of them put together.”

“I’m not, Little Brother. I can fight a lot of things, but I can’t go up against the people who want me back.”

“You mean the Fianna? Calum told me.”

“He shouldn’t have.”

“I know they threatened Juliet.” Philip crossed his arms and stared at Rafe’s boots. “And all the others you love. That’s why you’re running again.”

“Not running, returning. There’s a difference.”

“It destroyed Pops the first time you left. When you went AWOL and disappeared. He never got over it. We both know what it did to Juliet.”

Rafe didn’t want to argue. He had things to do before he met Arragon. “Philip—”

“It destroyed me as well.” Instead of jealousy and resentment, Philip’s eyes shone with unshed tears.

“I didn’t know.”

“You were my big brother. The one who looked out for me. Protected me.” Philip wiped his cheek with his sleeve. “When you left, I was all alone. I needed you, and you were gone. Then so was she.”

Rafe pulled Philip in for a hug. He’d failed so many people in his life, so many he loved. “I’m sorry.”

Philip whispered, “Is it true that Momma was murdered?”

“Yes.” Rafe pressed his cheek against his brother’s head. “Juliet told me a few hours ago that Momma was killed by Remiel Marigny. I promise he’ll pay for her death.”

Philip pulled away and nodded. “We’ll be fine. Calum and I will watch over Juliet, if she’ll let us.”

“And Pops.”

“And Pops.” Philip headed for the stairs. “Calum is eating breakfast. I’m sure he’ll want to see you.”

“I doubt that,” Rafe said, falling into step next to Philip. “Calum must regret freeing me.” And buying all those clothes.

Philip stopped halfway down, one hand on the rail, the other on Rafe’s arm. “Calum didn’t get you out of prison. Carina told me she couldn’t pull off a pardon.”

Rafe’s heart revved into a punishing rhythm. If Calum hadn’t gotten him out, who had?

Rafe hopped over the rail and double-timed it into the dining room. Calum sat at the head of the table, in a tan seersucker suit and green bow tie, reading the Financial Times and drinking coffee. The silver serving dishes on the gleaming table shone in the morning light.

“Did you know?” Rafe demanded.

Calum folded the paper into fourths and smoothed it out with his hand, laying his phone on top. Then he took a sip of coffee. “That you’re running away again? Yes.”

“I’m not—” Rafe exhaled and leaned on the table. “Did you know Carina didn’t get me out of prison?”

“That’s absurd.”

“Not according to your twin.”

Calum picked up his phone and texted. “It’s a misunderstanding.”

Philip poured coffee and sat at the table. He lowered himself slowly, favoring his side.

“Did the doctor check you out last night?” Rafe been so focused on Juliet that he’d given the others little thought. So much for becoming a better man.

Philip nodded. “Pete did a great job. No ruptures or infections yet. The doctor did give me a more powerful antibiotic, though. And I’m supposed to rest.”

“Good.” Rafe drummed his fingers while Calum texted again. “What does Carina say?”

Calum laid his napkin next to his plate and stood. “We have a problem.”

“Fuck.”

“If you didn’t free Rafe,” Philip asked, “who did?”

“I don’t know,” Calum said. “But a favor like this always requires repayment.”

Philip coughed. “What are you going to do?”

Rafe ran his hands over his head. “Return to the Prince. Deal with this later.”

“Could it be Remiel Marigny?” Philip asked. “Or Colonel Torridan?”

“No idea. All I know is I have less than three hours before leaving my family. Forever.”

Calum came around and gripped Rafe’s shoulder. “How can I help?”

He wanted to wake Juliet, but he wouldn’t do that to her. She needed to rest, and he wasn’t sure he could walk away if she were awake. “I have legal things to work out.”

“Philip, please tell Ivers to bring fresh coffee into my study.” Calum straightened his jacket and led the way. “If Juliet wakes, tell her Rafe is gone.”