Roarke understood.
Roarke knew Sienna never loved him. He had known it even as it was happening. Sienna loved Arkai and Roarke was simply… there. A warm body in the orbit of the man she truly wanted.
He knew he was never supposed to love Sienna. He knew his feelings, whatever they were, were a betrayal of the brother who had saved him.
But that night, with Sienna clutching his tunic, begging him to make the pain of her heat disappear—
He lost his mind.
Her heat scent. Her sweet words. The way her fingers dug into his shoulders. How could he refuse? How could any man refuse, when a woman he had quietly, shamefully desired for years was clinging to him like he was the only solid thing in a world dissolving into fire?
It was his fault. He knew he should have been stronger. He should have pushed her away, locked her in her room, and fetched Arkai. There were a hundred things he should have done, and he had done none of them.
