The King (Black Dagger Brotherhood, #12)

by J.R. Ward

“Anha, do you accept me as your King and mate, until the door unto the Fade is offered afore you?” “Yes,” she heard herself say with surprising strength. “Then I, Wrath, son of Wrath, do take you as my shellan, to watch over and care for you and any begotten young we may have, sure as I would and will my kingdom, and its citizenry. You shall be mine fore’ermore—your enemies are mine own, your bloodline to mix with mine own, your dusks and your dawns to share only with me. This bond shall ne’er be torn asunder by forces within or without—and”—here he paused—“there shall be one and only one female for all mine days, and you shall be that only queen.” With that, he brought up his other hand and laced all their fingers together. “None shall part us. Ever.”

The past is what it is—good and bad, it’s written and unchanging. And there’s solace to be had in that.” Tears pricked her eyes. “What do you mean?” There was a long pause. “The good parts are more luminous because you can trust them. And the bad parts can’t get any more tragic for precisely the same reason. The past is safe because it is indelible.”

The Rolling Stones were right. Sometimes, you didn’t get what you wanted. But if you had all you needed? Life was good.

They are as empty without a young as we are empty without them.

It was probably the only thing that really punched past all the fear: For him, waking up without Beth had been the worst kind of revelation—and if that was the way she felt without a baby, then it was going to be a cold-bed overtime for the both of them.

“Listen to me, and you have to be clear on this—I love you, all of you, each and every part of you. You are perfect in every way—”

“You have given me something . . . I didn’t even know I needed. It’s the greatest gift I will ever receive—it’s, like, completing me already in places I wasn’t aware were empty. And yet . . . in spite of all that? I don’t love you one bit more. You are as important to me as you’ve always been.” He curled down and pressed a kiss to the loose shirt she was wearing—it was one of his, actually, and wasn’t that great. “I was wholly bonded to you before this, and will be after this—and forevermore.” “You’re going to make me cry again.” “So cry. And let me take care of you. I got this.” “I love you so much.”

Yes, he thought, to survive, one must not be alone. And one must have a partner of worth. Possess that? And you were richer than any King and queen who e’er roamed the earth.