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He’s an archangel. Sent to protect me. And I doubt it’ll be the first time I think it—because, dear God, the analogy fits.
Fact: Thatcher Moretti taught himself to decipher my handwriting.
“We’re still kerosene.” Flammable. Combustible. I smile. “Sounds disastrously right.”
I’m head-deep, un-fucking-believably in love with this girl, and I would do anything for her.
Do not fall into his lap like a bird without wings, Jane. You’re born from lions.
How strange and wonderful it feels to be seen—but for the right reasons. Not maliciously or perversely but adoringly. Lovingly. Protectively. Carefully.
“Murder with the Cobalt fam,” Donnelly says through a mouthful of cheesecake. “Those who slay together, stay together.”
First come the bodyguards. I count five. And then five famous faces bring up the rear. Charlie, Beckett, Eliot, Tom, and Ben. Every single one of my brothers. They’re all here, and they’re far too fixated on Thatcher like he’s tonight’s five-course meal.
“Do not cower,” I coach quickly. “Do not avoid their eyes. Do not show fear. They’re little fiends that will chew you up like you’re nothing more than a three o’clock snack.”
The media talks about how we, Cobalts, are intelligent and witty. Poised and confident. But very few mention how deeply we feel.
How Eliot can summon tears out of cold-hearted eyes. How Beckett can make your awed gasp feel like the last breath you’ll take. How Ben can harness your empathy so you do the right thing. How Tom can wake the dead things buried inside you. How Audrey can bottle love and romance like it’s life’s greatest necessity. And Charlie—everyone thinks he has no soul but his is just the darkest, deepest of them all.
A test of loyalty. Interlopers beware. The Cobalt brothers will not let you through.
Cobalts are a tornadic force you don’t want to fuck with. Out of the three famous families, they have the most power and can wield it with the snap of a finger.
He kisses my knuckles, and my heart rises with a smile that shouldn’t exist. Yet, he’s summoned one out of my soul. Reaching deeper inside me than anyone ever has or could. And it’s terrifying.
But she’s mine, and I might not deserve her but I swear to God, I’ll never harm her, and I’d give my life to protect her. I know I’m not a prince. I’m not a king. But I’d treat Jane like she should be treated. She’s my princess, my angel, and my queen. Every morning and every night. I’d kneel at her feet and stand by her side.
But Xander Hale has different demons that he needs us to fight off. It’s why I’m here. What I’m made to do.
Who needs carnal touch like water, quenching a desperate thirst. Jane is my match, my mate, and I swear to all that’s holy, I’d give her my breath, my body—but guilt is slowly destroying me.
I’m in another world with Jane. And I never want to leave.
Aunt Daisy has taught me to use my voice, even if the world says stay quiet. Aunt Lily has taught me fierce courage, even on days when you feel lesser than. And Rose Calloway Cobalt, my mom—she’s taught me how to walk into a room full of men and never back down.
We’re three-ways in hell, and the only good thing is that all four of us are built to withstand the fire.
His intense gaze isn’t defeating me. It wraps me. Tightly. Protectively, and oh God, I wish I never told him to sit back down. Because I also love that he’s willing to break orders for me. Constantly. Even now.
If eyes could be lip-locked, ours are attached in desirous, soul-bound fashion, and I’m not ready to look to the left or right.
While Maximoff jogs past, Farrow gives him a blatant once-over, and we all watch Maximoff trip on a rug. Everyone laughs, and my lip begins to lift. “Jesus Christ,” Maximoff curses. “You didn’t see that.” “I definitely did,” Farrow teases.
Love is more. It’s the days I wake up, feeling a need, an urgency to protect her. Not just her body but her spirit—her entire soul. It’s the days I imagine losing her, and I’m met with a bottomless empty, nothing there but hollow numbness. Worse than death. It’s the days I yearn for her laugh, for her companionship, and thoughts. It’s every day she makes me feel worthy of her and this life. All of it and more.
“I don’t need a career to be a smart woman.” I go on. “I don’t need a job to be talented. I am both smart and possess talent, and the love that I give is just as important as the fashion empire my mom built. I am enough just as I am.”
“I need you. I need you like the air I breathe, and I want you like ground beneath my feet. I’m not afraid—I’m not afraid, not even a little. You are the man who has respected all of who I am and protected every little piece of me.” His chest lifts in a strong breath. We stare powerfully, not wasting a moment to blink. “You keep me whole,” I profess. “And love—that dreaded, beautiful word—love.” I breathe, “Love is two wholes. We are two-hundred percent—an illogical number, maddening, and I will forever embrace every illogical, maddening second with you.” Tears threaten to surge. We’ve drawn
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To prepare me, Jane told me three things about Wednesday Night Dinner. The dress code is anything and everything and nothing. Costumes are acceptable. Being buck-naked is also acceptable. There are no rules. Conversation is not a requirement. Talk as much as you want or don’t talk at all. There are no rules. But there are rules. Only one. Come as you are. Be true to you. And all will fall into place.
Her faith in me is like a beacon of light guiding my ship to shore.
Maybe they never explained these dinners because you can’t. I’m twenty-eight, but here—no person is older or younger. Time is frozen, and a soul-bleeding feeling sings and screams—an experience that philosophers and mathematicians would fail to encapsulate. I’d try. But then again, I’d rather carry their secrets to my grave.
I will always love my brother. And Jane—I will always, always love Jane. Death can’t take that from me.
I can live inside hell, but for the first time, I’ve finally reached heaven—and I’m happy and I’m staying. I’m staying. To build a life and future and family. Right here, with Jane Eleanor Cobalt. For forever.
I never want to leave his embrace, happiness is right here in his arms. And if we’re strong enough to survive ice and fire together, we can survive anything. Sempre toujours. Always always.
