Something jolted hard inside him, as if she’d struck him, and the simmering anger and desire began to boil over.
Cassius reached for her, pulling her hard up against him. ‘Don’t push it, Inara,’ he growled. ‘I’m not the Prince any more. You can’t—’
‘Well, you should be.’ She stared at him as if he was no threat to her whatsoever. As if his anger was nothing. As if he was just a normal man she was arguing with and not the leader of an entire nation. ‘At least that prince was honest with himself. He didn’t nail himself to the cross of duty like you’re doing right now.’
‘Of course he didn’t,’ Cassius ground out before he could stop himself. ‘Because that prince hadn’t yet killed his brother.’
Inara’s pretty mouth opened in a soft O of surprise, her eyes going wide. Her hands were on his chest, her palms like hot coals on his bare skin. ‘What? What do you mean, he hadn’t killed his brother?’
Let her go. Walk away.
He should. But the anger needed to do that had gone, leaving in its place only a burning desire to tell someone. He’d kept it a secret for so long, a heavy weight he’d been dragging around for years, and he was tired of it. So very tired. And he had no one else to tell. A king didn’t have friends or confidantes; a king had no one but himself and his own secrets. But his secrets were eating him alive.
So who better to tell than the person who knew him better than anyone else? The person he’d always been honest with, always himself?
‘Caspian wasn’t supposed to be on the helicopter that day,’ he said roughly. ‘I was. But I made him swap places with me because I had a hangover and I didn’t want to go.’
Shock rippled over Inara’s lovely face. ‘Oh, Cassius.’
He didn’t know what kind of response he wanted from her, but it wasn’t the pity he heard in her voice. She shouldn’t pity him. She should be horrified. Not only because of how he’d sent his brother to his death, but his parents as well.
He let her go. Suddenly, he didn’t want her warmth near him, touching him. Reminding him of all the things he couldn’t allow himself to have. Because he didn’t deserve it, not any of it.
‘The trip to the mountains that day was my fault too.’ He stripped the emotion completely from his voice so all that was left was the truth. ‘My father was displeased with my behaviour and wanted me to see the tombs of the de Leon kings so I was aware of the legacy I was supposed to uphold. I hated all the rules I was supposed to obey. All the limitations on what I could say, on what I could do. I wasn’t the heir so I didn’t see why I should have to follow them.’
Inara opened her mouth, but he held up a hand, silencing her. She might as well know everything now.
‘My father told me I had to come on the trip, that I wasn’t allowed to say no. But I was angry with him, so I made Caspian go in my stead. My brother wouldn’t have been on that helicopter if it hadn’t been for me. In fact, there would have been no trip at all if it hadn’t been for me and my terrible behaviour. My entire family would still be alive.’
Her mouth had gone so soft, her eyes liquid. ‘Cassius...’
‘So you can call me a martyr all you like,’ he went on, as if she hadn’t spoken. ‘But my father and my brother left me a legacy, and I will continue that legacy, to the best of my ability, for as long as I can. I will be the king my brother never got a chance to be and I will continue to do that until the day I die. It will be my memorial to them.’
Her expression twisted and she reached out a hand to him, but he was done. He’d got rid of his secret, he’d told her, and now that was over he had a job to do.
‘I will see you tonight, little one.’ He found a thread of his usual calm and held on tightly to it. ‘In the meantime, I have a job to do.’
And, ignoring her hand, he turned on his heel and went out.