Throne of Vengeance (Throne Duet #2) by Rina Kent

She follows behind me and closes the door. Her face is pale, lips dry. Her dress’s buttons are done up wrong, as if she was in a hurry to put clothes on.

“Sit down.” I motion at the lounge area.

She shakes her head frantically, catching her breath.

“Is everything okay, Lia?” Maybe there is a reason behind her husband’s absence. “Is Adrian okay?”

“Of course he is—when has he not been?” she snaps, but it’s not entirely in anger. There’s something else underneath, but I can’t put my finger on it. Hatred? A grudge?

“Okay. Can you tell me why you came here?” It’s weird, and knowing Adrian’s strict, secretive nature, he wouldn’t let her roam around unescorted.

Her huge eyes stare at me, tears clinging to her lids. Woah—what’s going on?

“The other time, you said you’d help me, Rai.”

“I would.”

“Promise?”

“Yes, of course. Just tell me what’s going on.”

“P-please…p-please help me escape Adrian.” She takes my hands in her trembling, sweaty ones. “If you don’t, I will die.”

Well, shit.





After I have Katia and Ruslan send Lia to one of our safe houses—that Adrian doesn’t know about—I go to take a shower.

I don’t know what I will do, but she was on the verge of a breakdown and desperately needed to get away from Adrian. If he did anything to her, I’ll murder him.

Standing under the stream, I place a palm on my stomach. “If you’re a boy, don’t you dare mistreat women. If you’re a girl, don’t you dare let men mistreat you just because you don’t have balls.”

I shake my head. I can’t believe I’m talking to a fetus, but I remember Reina saying Gareth used to move in her stomach whenever she or Asher talked to him.

My chest tightens at the thought of my child not having a complete family like Gareth. Whatever happens, I’m going to take care of this child. I’ve been feeling these small bursts of excitement since I had that heart-to-heart with Reina.

I want to be like Mom. I want to protect my children with my life.

After wrapping my torso in a towel, I step outside the bathroom, drying my hair with a smaller towel.

My feet come to a halt of their own volition when I spot the man standing in the middle of our bedroom.

Kyle.

He followed me.

The thought causes my lips to tremble before I set them in a line.

He must’ve had a shower because all the blood from earlier is gone. He’s wearing a clean white shirt that molds to his taut muscles. His hair is slightly damp, some strands falling on his forehead.

He’s really here.

For a second, we stare at each other silently, as if we’re both processing the reality.

“Can you hear me out?” he asks in a quiet voice.

“About what? Didn’t you already leave a letter and say goodbye?”

He blows out a long breath. “That was a mistake.”

“A mistake?”

“No. I meant what I said, except for one thing.”

“What?” My voice is barely audible.

“The part about how leaving you is the right choice.”

“It isn’t?”

“It fucking isn’t. I know it should be, but I can’t bring myself to part from you.” He smiles a little. “It’s ironic considering I ripped my heart out when I left the room this morning.”

“Why did you, Kyle?”

“I told you, I’m dangerous for you.”

“I get to decide that.”

“I hurt you.” He motions at the bruises at my shoulders.

“Do you think I would’ve let you touch me if you hurt me?” My voice lowers. “I came more times than I could count, if you didn’t notice. Besides, I never asked you to stop. I would’ve if it got to be too much.”

“Still…I was too rough.”

“I love it rough.”

His eyes gleam. He likes that more than he will ever admit, and maybe I’m the same.

“Anything else you’d like to say?” I probe.

“Yeah…I’ll take you to the clinic. I’ll be there for you.”

“I only need a doctor, not the clinic.”

His brows furrow. “Why? Is something wrong?”

“No. The doctor at the hospital said I need an OB-GYN.”

Realization dawns on him and he remains silent before he whispers, “You’re…”

“Keeping it,” I finish for him.

“Why?”

“Because I want to.”

“I thought you didn’t want children.”

“That was before, when my insecurities were getting the better of me.”

“And now?”

“Now, I’m confident enough to do it. I want to be a good mother like Mom and Reina. Don’t get me wrong, though—switching my pills was a dick move that I’ll hold over your head for the rest of your life.”

He remains silent for a beat before he shoves a hand in his pocket.

I watch him and his silence before I blurt, “Aren’t you going to say anything?”

“I want to ask something, but I’m not sure if I want to hear the answer.”