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I shouldn’t have made the request for Tullia’s return. It was so moronically out of character that it must have been what gave me away. And I shouldn’t have made it more obvious by giving our warriors orders to march. I should have dug up my fucking patience from beneath the mountains of fear and desperation and formed a better plan. I shouldn’t have made it known she was my wife—Hellebore’s queen. Not while he had her.
“I fully intend to eat you.” His mouth dropped to the edge of my shoulder, brushing my skin with his words. “When you decide you will have me.”
“The moment I laid eyes on you was the moment I knew I could never end your life.” My heart thrashed. “So you did plan to.” I hadn’t doubted it since learning of it—yet I’d wanted to. Even now, I so desperately wanted to. “I was always supposed to kill you, butterfly.” His dark lashes dipped, his thumb glossing my lower lip. “But now, I will bring you the remains of anyone who tries.”
“If they were, you’d see that I care far more than I ever wanted to.” He laughed, but it held no humor. “You’d see that I feared for you. I’ve tortured and killed for you. I went insane with desperation to get you back, and I couldn’t, Tullia. I couldn’t reach you.” His chest heaved. “Every time I came close to sleep, it was stunted by terror.” He swallowed thickly. “By thoughts of what he might be doing to you, and you…”
“My mate.” His eyes held mine as he licked my upper lip. “My wife.” He dragged his fingers free to rub my clit. “My fucking queen.”
Despite all I’d done, despite all she still refused to give me, it was me she’d materialized to. I was her place of refuge.
He was winter personified. A storm given the body of a Fae male. Midnight-blue eyes brightened
“That I’m so wretchedly in love with you, it’s both saved and damned me.”
I’m so wretchedly in love with you.
“You are a light in my soul that unearthed my heart. You now hold it in the palms of your perfect hands, and to say that has been an adjustment is a fucking understatement.”
