House of Royals(61)

“After being in the South,” he corrects, trying to joke in that way he does. He takes a grape and pops it into his mouth. “We like our food deep fried and slathered in molasses and butter.”

I take a sandwich and nibble off a bite. It’s tasteless to me. This whole situation is awkward. This is unnatural and forced and we’re just ignoring the immediate future.

“Yeah,” I say, a good five beats too late.

“Do you like it here, though?” Ian asks. He finally meets my eyes and it’s a genuine question. “Take out all the drama and the supernatural—do you like it here in Mississippi? Or do you wish you were still back in Colorado?”

I take another nibble and allow a few seconds to think about it. “Colorado is home. It’s where I grew up. And it’s a different world here, in so many ways. But…” It’s difficult to put into words how I feel about Silent Bend. About the Conrath Estate. “I think this is where I was supposed to be, you know? Even though I didn’t know Henry, he was my family and he’s been here for more than two centuries. I have roots already planted here, I just didn’t know it.”

Ian reaches for a glass and takes a sip. I watch the glass come to his lips, watch the muscles constrict in his throat. He wipes the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand. “The South kind of has a way of gripping you and not letting go.”

I nod, feeling my stomach sink. “Yeah, I can feel that.”

Ian takes one more drink before setting his glass back on the tray. He leans forward and tips my chin back up, forcing me to look at him. “I’m glad you’re here,” he says, his voice low and intense. “Despite everything, I have no regrets.”

He leans in and so do I. “I’m glad I’m here, too,” I whisper just before our lips meet.

It’s a tender kiss. One that lingers and sinks into my soul. It’s a parting kiss and a last goodbye.

Because just five seconds into it, Ian collapses into my lap.

Tears spring into my eyes as I adjust him, laying him in my lap. I push the hair out of his face, tracing the back of my fingers along his rough cheek.

I told him I was glad I’m here, too, but I have many regrets.

Rath’s footsteps sound softly over the grass. I don’t look up at him, but I know it’s him. He’s always there.

“How long will he sleep for?” I ask.

“At least twelve hours,” he answers in that soft, even tone of his.

I sniff hard and nod. I wipe a tear from the corner of my eye that’s threatening to leak down my face. “And you’ll give him another dose if this takes longer than that?”

“You have my word,” Rath says.

Finally, I look up at him. His dark face is made even darker from his expression. There’s a lot of hidden emotion behind those eyes. But he’s here.

“Thank you.”

Without another word, Rath bends and hoists Ian up over his shoulder. This shouldn’t be an easy task; Ian is well built and has to be pushing six feet. But Rath gets him up with no strain and starts back for the house.

I feel sick as I follow him. This was my decision. I communicated what I needed from Rath with just a look across the room and he knew exactly what I needed. And now Ian is dangling from Rath’s shoulders, mouth half open, dead to the world for the next half a day.

I did that to him.

But I had no other option.

Rath puts Ian in the room next to Lillian’s. He lays him in the bed and gives me space to say goodbye. Rath goes back to the men working on a new, advanced lock system for this bedroom.

I stare down at Ian as he sleeps. A part of me wants to touch him. To take his hand. To put my lips on his cheek. To lie next to his side one last time.

But I can’t. I want to remember our last moments together. As strained as they were, they were tender.

I don’t know that I love Ian. There was never enough time to decide that, and I couldn’t ever allow myself to sink that deep. But there’s no denying it—Ian has forever changed my heart and being.

This is so painful.

“Goodbye,” I whisper as one tear forces its way down my face.

I walk out of his room.

Rath waits for me in the foyer, beneath the chandelier. He stands there, hands always folded in front of him. His eyes follow me as I walk toward him.

“You are a brave soul, Alivia Ryan,” Rath says. “You may not be a Conrath by name, but you are one by heart. Conraths make sacrifices for those they care about.”

I blink a few times, clearing the moisture from my eyes. The time for tears is gone. “Yeah, well, it was going to happen in a few weeks, anyway. May as well get it over with.”