Page 80 of Dark Princess Ascending

She could even find purpose in it.

When Morelle finally emerged from the bathroom, she found Brandon in bed wearing his black silk pajamas. He had told her that he'd never worn them to bed before because he preferred to sleep inthe nude, and he only put them on out of regard for her. But now that they had completed their bond, there was no reason for him to be dressed in bed.

So, what was going on with him?

Was he bothered by her being a tool? A weapon?

He was staring at his phone with an expression even more troubled than the one he'd worn all day, which reinforced her suspicion that she was right about him not being okay with the earlier revelation.

Funny how it hadn't even occurred to her that he might have an issue with it. Annani and the rest of the family were happy to have a shield, and they thought highly of her and her ability. Why would Brandon have a problem with it?

She slipped into bed beside him. "Still thinking about those InstaTock videos?" she asked, knowing that wasn't what had put those deep lines on his forehead.

"No." He set his phone aside and took her hand, his expression serious. "I have a confession to make."

Something in his tone made her stomach clench. "What is it?"

"I was the one who realized your and Ell-rom's talents couldn't be random—that you must have been engineered with a specific purpose in mind."

The words hit her like a physical blow. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I wanted to consult with Kian first?—"

"Behind my back." The hurt in her voice surprised even her. "How long have you suspected this?"

"Only since this morning." He squeezed her hand, and she resisted the urge to pull away. "When you were visiting Rob, I went to talk to Kian about it. I needed someone to tell me that I wasn't creating a script in my head and that the story made sense."

"You should have told me first. We could have talked about it and then gone to Kian together."

That was what she would have done if the roles had been reversed, and the way Brandon had handled it was disappointing, to say the least.

Brandon looked tormented. "I wasn't sure about it. I needed to run it by Kian first to see if I was reaching too far." He swallowed hard. "And then, after he agreed it made sense, I was too much of a coward to tell you. I was afraid of how you'd react."

"That's not okay, Brandon." Morelle pulled her hand free. "Life is full of difficult moments, and people who care about each other shouldn't shy away from them and hide their thoughts and suspicions."

"I know." His voice was heavy with regret. "I'm sorry. Can you forgive me?"

Looking at his earnest face, Morelle knew that she had no choice but to eventually forgive him because she loved him. Not yet, though. She couldn't do it when it still stung so fiercely. It wasn't just that he'd kept this from her, but that he'd thought she couldn't handle hearing it from him and relied on others to deliver the news to her.

"You're forgiven," she said finally, but she couldn't keep the truth of her hurt feelings from her voice.

She turned away from him, pulling the covers up to her chin, and after a moment, she felt him curl around her from behind, his arm draping over her waist. She didn't push him away—his warmth was still comforting, even now—but something felt off.

The disappointment sat heavy on her chest, an unwelcome emotion when it came to Brandon. She'd never felt this way about him before, and she wasn't sure what to do with it.

It wasn't that she doubted his love for her or his intentions. She understood his impulse to protect her, to make sure he wasn't wrong before potentially hurting her with his theory. But that was part of the problem—he'd made decisions about what she could handle without giving her the chance to prove him wrong.

His breath was warm against her neck as he whispered, "I really am sorry."

"I know." She covered his hand with hers, where it rested on her stomach. "I just need time to process things. It's been a difficult day."

She did have a lot to process. Not just Brandon's actions but everything they'd learned tonight. Her very existence had been engineered for a purpose—she and her brother created to be the perfect weapon against a tyrant king.

Ironically, that was easier to accept than the knowledge that Brandon hadn't confided in her first. Genetic engineering was something that had been done to her before she was born, but his choice had been made today, and he should have known better because he knew her.

She wasn't weak, she wasn't fragile, and trust meant everything to her.

Somehow, she would move past this. She loved Brandon, and one mistake wasn't going to change that, but she needed to make it absolutely clear that trust went both ways—and that caring for someone also meant trusting them with difficult truths.