Black Knight (Royal Elite #4) by Rina Kent

Then I recall how Kir walked in on us – which was way worse. Wrestling? Really? Surely I could’ve thought of something better. I hope we didn’t scar my baby brother for life and he believes the wrestling story.

Lewis is about to head straight to the door but stops when he notices us. A rare smile lifts his face as he approaches us.

“Hey, young man.” He snatches a tissue and wipes the chocolate on Kirian’s cheek.

“That’s right, Uncle.” Kir grins, showing his growing teeth. “I’m a man. Tell everyone else.”

Both Lewis and I smile.

Xander doesn’t. He gives us his back as he fusses with the coffee machine. His rigid, stiff back that seems about ready to burst out of his T-shirt.

“How are you, Kim?” Lewis asks me with a warm expression, another thing that’s so atypical of him to show.

He’s known as a powerful politician with strict decisions. That’s why he gets along so well with Silver’s dad.

Despite his average appearance, he has an eloquent tongue and a charisma that makes up tenfold for the looks. Xan only took after him in the shape of the eyes, perhaps. Which is also similar to Kirian’s.

I always joked to Xander when we were kids that Kirian looks like him, not me.

Wait.

No. I shake my head. That’s absolutely not possible.

Go away, stupid thoughts.

I fake a smile. “I’m fine, thanks.”

“How are Calvin and Jeanine?”

Why the hell are you asking about them? I know why. Because they were always some kind of friends, especially Dad and Lewis; they sort of grew up together, went to the same school – RES – the same university, and the same damn world.

However, my mind is spiralling to a completely wrong direction right now.

“T-they’re good.”

Xander glances back at me as soon as I stammer, his brows drawn together, then reverts his attention to Kirian, who’s completely oblivious to the tension brewing in the air.

Lewis wipes Kirian’s cheek again. I try to unsee the scene in front of me, of Lewis’s doting gesture or his smile that’s as extinct as a passing unicorn, but I can’t. It’s impossible.

It’s all that’s brewing in my mind right now.

“Let me know if you need anything,” Lewis tells me.

“What do you mean?” I try not to sound spooked or on the verge of blurting these thoughts I don’t completely understand myself.

His expression returns to normal as if realising how many times he slipped, smiled, appeared damn doting. “With Kirian or anything.”

“Okay.” No way.

He throws a disapproving glance at Xander, then his bandaged hand. It’s uncanny how much he can communicate with only his eyes. He was welcoming with Kirian and me, but he’s obviously pissed off with his son.

And it’s understandable, considering the shit Xan has been getting himself into. Alcohol, fighting, and now, hurting his hand.

I swallow at that.

He cut his hand, and there was blood. Like me.

Only, is he? I’m sure he didn’t do it on purpose. Doesn’t mean the wound isn’t hurting him, though.

Xander smiles at his father and even though his dimples make an appearance, it’s a forced one that’s hiding what seems like bitterness behind it. “Good morning to you, too, Dad.”

“We’ll talk later.” And with that, Lewis is out the door.

I stare at the place he stood in, beside Kirian, my mind filled with all sorts of messed up theories.

No, nope. I’m not going to think about that.

Xander smiles down at Kir. “I’ll go get ready for school. Okay, Superman?”

Kirian gives him a fist without lifting his head and then they make a blowing sound.

I would’ve been touched by the scene if my insides weren’t melting down.

Xander leaves from the other side – Kirian’s side. If he thinks he can run away from me, from this, he has another thing coming.

He doesn’t get to kiss me, to murmur those words to me, and to light my body on fire just to walk away as if it never happened.

He called me Green. His Green.

After a whole seven years, he finally called me Green again, and I’m not going to pretend that it’s a play of my imagination or some sort of dream.

I’m done being pushed around by him and letting him be the decision-maker in all this tale.

We always did things together and that shouldn’t change.

I storm on his heels and plant myself in front of him, disallowing him access to the stairs. “You don’t get to run away.”

“Run away?” He laughs and the cruelty in it crushes me slowly. “Who are you so I’d run away from you?”

“But –”

“You’re nothing, Berly.”

“Fuck you,” I wanted to say it with spite, but it comes out weak and with so much pain, it’s pathetic.

“No, thanks.”

“But you did. You can’t pretend it never happened.”

The malice in his eyes is nothing like I’ve ever seen before. This time, it’s tangible and with the clear intention to break. “Watch me.”

“I won’t stay still this time.” I fight the brittleness in my voice. “I’m not the girl who waited on your approval like a lost puppy. That girl is gone. If you erase me, I’ll erase you harder.”