The news reached Nikolas.
One of his informants, a presence he especially put in the temple's shadows, appeared at the Delanivis residence urgently.
He said Prince Arzhen had appeared at the temple. Collapsed in the Saintess's arms. She screamed for help. He was unconscious. And she hadn't left his side.
That bastard—
Nikolas didn't wait for more.
He was moving before the informant finished speaking, his coat snatched from its hook, his carriage ordered with a snap of his fingers. The ride to the temple was a blur of city streets and churning thoughts, each one darker than the last.
Faking it.
He's faking it. Arzhen Vasiliev, the tiger who had slithered his way back into Ruby's life, had staged this whole scene. Collapsed dramatically in her arms, knowing she would call for help, knowing she would stay.
It was manipulation. It was theft. It was—
Nikolas's jaw clenched so hard his teeth ached.
