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88 Everything I Never Said 2
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2025-12-13 00:07:24
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Tempting the Wrong Prince 88 Everything I Never Said 2
Cassandra’s POV“You didn’t hold me. Not once. You didn’t ask how I was doing. How I felt. What I wanted.”The words left me before I realised I’d spoken them. They came out raw, stripped of polish, stripped of diplomacy, stripped of the soft carefulness I had been trained to carry like a second skin in this palace.I shook my head slowly, the memories crashing back with the cold clarity of a blade.“It was always about you,” I continued. “Your title. Your court allies. Your heir. Your mother. Your reputation.”Richard’s lips parted, his breath catching as if some half-formed apology hovered behind his teeth. But before he could speak, I lifted my hand, a quiet command, a line he no longer had the right to cross.“I loved you,” I said quietly.His eyes flickered, wounded by the gentleness in my tone. Because it wasn’t tenderness. It was grief. The soft ache of all the illusions I once carried.“When I married you,” I went on, “I thought you’d love me unconditionally. Protect me. Put m
Tempting the Wrong Prince 87 Everything I Never Said
Cassandra’s POVFor a long moment, there was nothing, no sound, no breath, no movement, only the two of us suspended in a silence so heavy it felt like it could crush bone. The air in the room was thick, humid from the steam that had followed me out of the bathroom, yet cold at the edges in the way only palace walls could be. Richard sat on the edge of the bed, shoulders slumped forward as though the weight of the crown, past, present, future, had finally settled on him all at once. His eyes, usually sharp with princely discipline or clouded with guilt, were now dark, empty, hollow.He was waiting.For an answer.For a truth neither of us had dared speak for six years.And I stood there, wrapped in a towel, my hair still damp and clinging to my shoulders, my skin still flushed from the too-hot water I had used to scrub away the evidence of a man who wasn’t my husband. But even beneath the heat, I felt cold. The kind of cold that came from years of loneliness, years of hoping and break
Tempting the Wrong Prince 86 What Remains of a Heart 2
Cassandra’s POVMy chest twisted. The truth was too big to ignore: he was the king’s eldest son. Duty would always come for him. Family would always chain him. There was no universe in which he could tear down the throne for me. No world where he could abandon the bloodline that shaped him.He couldn’t choose me. Not in the end. Not when everything settled.But I didn’t say any of that.I didn’t want him to think I doubted him. I didn’t want to break him apart with a truth he wasn’t ready to admit.So I held my tongue.“I’ll see you again,” I said softly. “We’ll talk again. I promise.”He looked at me like the promise was a blade pressed to the softest part of him.Then, he kissed me.A desperate, aching, consuming kiss. One that burned. One that pleaded. One that said everything he couldn’t allow himself to utter aloud.It felt like a beginning… And like something ending.When he finally let go, my legs felt weak. My breath trembled. My heart felt bruised.Diana pretended not to n
Tempting the Wrong Prince 85 What Remains of a Heart
Cassandra’s POVTime moved differently when Arden held me. Not slower. Not faster. Just… elsewhere.It was as though the abandoned palace room carved out its own pocket in the universe, a sliver of existence untouched by anything beyond its cracked walls. The world outside didn’t just fade, it ceased to matter. The royal court became a distant, irrelevant machine. Ivana’s venomous tongue and the crown’s iron weight dissolved into nothing. Even Richard, his grief, his desperation, his unraveling, felt like a faraway echo I couldn’t afford to listen to.There was only Arden.His arms around me. His breath warming the side of my neck. The familiar scent of cedarwood and cold night wind clinging to his clothes like a shield.I hadn’t realised how hungry I had been for safety until the moment he pulled me in. It was physical, this starvation I’d developed without knowing. The kind that turned solid the second his body wrapped around mine, the second my cheek found the steady rise and f
Tempting the Wrong Prince 84 Only For The Moment.
Cassandra’s POV My body trembled in Arden's arms, a shiver that had nothing to do with the chill seeping from the stone walls of this forgotten room. My heart hammered against my ribs, each beat a frantic warning, I shouldn't be here, in the dark with him, where every shadow could betray us. The palace slept beyond these doors, but danger lurked in every creak, every distant footfall. Richard's wife. That's what they called me. A title that chained me tighter than any iron bars ever could. Yet here I was, slipping through corridors like a ghost, drawn to Arden as if he were the only light in this suffocating world. His scent wrapped around me first, earthy from the road, mixed with the faint spice of his skin that always made my knees weaken. It invaded my senses, pulling me under, and my body responded without permission. Heat bloomed low in my belly, a traitorous ache between my thighs that made me press closer despite the fear clawing at my throat. I realized it then, in the qui
Tempting the Wrong Prince 83 The Heart I Couldn’t Stay Away From
Arden’s POVThe rest of the drive felt like a war being waged beneath my skin.Every red light was an enemy. Every slowing car ahead was an obstacle. Every passing minute felt wasted. Every breath felt like salt rubbed into an open wound.By the time the driver pulled into the palace grounds, my heartbeat was pounding hard enough that I felt it in my throat, in my fingertips, in the very center of my skull.I didn’t go near Richard’s wing.I knew better. Provoking him would only create another battlefield we didn’t have time to fight on. And this, what I was about to do, wasn’t about him.It was about her.I slipped through the quieter eastern corridor, footsteps echoing off stone, and pushed open the door to the room Cassandra had once been imprisoned in.It looked the same.Cold. Forgotten. A space designed to strip warmth and hope from anyone who entered. The kind of room used not for comfort, but for containment.A cage dressed as accommodation.I moved to the window, stand
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