How he didn’t touch me…at all.
“Just say it,” I demand, voice tremoring with devastation.
“You’re my sister.”
I shake my head…denying, denying, denying.
“But I have the Van Buren eyes, and…” As I bite my lip, a tear escapes my lashes.
“Biologically, you’re the daughter of Franklin Astor.” Glancing down at his joined hands, Landon pauses. “You have my father’s smile…not that you’ve had reason to smile since arriving on the island.”
The heaviness of his words, the quiet sadness in them, float between us for several moments, and the raging hurt in my soul ebbs a little. My gaze lands on the abandoned journal sitting between us. I wipe my cheeks, stowing away the anguish to deal with later when I’m alone.
“Did you know before Faye gave you the diary?”
“My father told me last year.”
“Who else knows?”
“No one, other than Faye and her mother.” He rakes a hand through his thick, dark hair, disrupting the combed-back strands. “If the truth comes out that you descend from Evangeline Castle…” Landon lets out a quick breath. “The Brotherhood will void the contract. There will be no auction for marriage.”
My heart skips a hopeful beat. “You mean I’ll be able to leave this place?”
“Where will you go? As the only living relative of King Van Buren, Rowan is the rightful heir to the throne of your lands.” He falls silent, letting the statement settle between us.
Letting it sink in.
Because if Franklin Astor is my father, then I have no legal claim on my home, other than the precious memories of growing up there. I’m parentless, and until my twenty-first birthday—when I can access my trust fund—I’m penniless.
“I want to go home.” I cross my arms, a pure display of defiance because deep down, I know I’m screwed whether I stay or go.
With a sigh, Landon rises and closes the few feet between us. Kneeling in front of me, he takes my hand in his. “Going home isn’t an option, my queen.”
I yank my hand free. “I’m not your queen. According to what you just told me, I’m nobody’s queen.”
“You are a queen, Novalee. For the sake of your nation, no one must find out about our shared bloodline. That’s why I’ll continue to address you so formally. The auction must go on.”
“So you won’t allow me to leave?”
He shakes his head. “You’re an Astor.” Something flashes in his emerald gaze, something I can’t define though it’s on the edge of my mind, scratching with a hint of clarity. “You belong on Zodiac Island, not with Rowan or out in the world on your own.”
I nod toward my mother’s secret journal. Her Pandora’s box. “You might have the power to keep me here, but you can’t stop me from revealing the truth myself.”
The transformation in Landon’s expression has me pressing into the back of the chair, regretting my threat. He leans forward, his face a harsh mask of warning. “You don’t want to see the other side of me. For the sake of you and your nation, this is a secret you will keep.”
“Issuing threats isn’t a very brotherly thing to do.”
His mouth flattens into a stubborn line. “I’m not the bad guy in this situation, Novalee, but I’ll do whatever is necessary to protect you and keep you here where you belong.”
I can’t help but glare at him because he’s treating me the same way every other man in this tower has—like a puppet to be mastered.
“You’d rather see me married to someone like Heath Bordeaux?”
“Heath won’t get his hands on you again.”
“But he has the means to win the auction.”
“He’ll have to stick to art and jewels. The auction for your hand isn’t one he’s going to win.”
“You sound certain.”
“I am.” He stands, and the weight of his stare presses on me. “There’s only one man I’ll allow to win that auction.”
“Who?” A dart of my tongue moistens my dry, nervous lips.
He folds his arms, a flawless statue of confident authority. “Someone I trust with my life. Someone I trust with this secret…someone you’ve got an eye for.” The knowing smirk on his face is a preamble, and he lets it hang.
“Who?” I demand again, bracing myself.
“Sebastian.”
Chapter Two
Sebastian.
The lion.
The man with the most brilliant blue eyes I’ve ever seen.
A man who hates me.
And Landon plans to marry me off to him.
Landon Astor…my brother.
“Are you going to give me the silent treatment all day?” Faye’s voice dips, a moment away from cracking in distress.
Or growling in frustration.
I’m not sure which, and considering all she kept from me, what she’s still keeping from me—if I count the mystery of what happened to Elise—I can’t say I care about Faye’s state of mind.
Not when my own is spinning with the revelations Landon dropped on me no more than an hour ago.
“You’ll have to talk to me eventually,” she tries again.