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“Stop being a coward, Dante,” she spit out softly in his direction. “It’s high fucking time.”
“His demons dance with mine,” she murmured softly, the truth of that statement seeping into her pores. “That’s all I can give you.”
“And if your demons take you like they did this morning?” he asked quietly. Morana swallowed. “Let’s hope his find mine, then.”
“Touch her without permission again,”
“and I will break you.”
“Call her a whore one more time,” Tristan continued, “and what I did to my father will look like a child’s play compared to what I’ll do to you.”
“She’s under my protection. Mine. Nobody hurts her. Nobody talks shit about her. Not me, not you, not anyone. Next time I hear you call her anything less than the woman she is, I will cut your tongue out and feed it to your dogs. Next time I see you anywhere close to her, I will kill you. Stay. The. Fuck. Away. From. Her. Do you understand?”
“Good. And anytime you forget that, just remember how I killed my father when I was a boy for her. And think on and think of the people I can kill now that I am a man to keep her safe.”
“You might have been born with another name but you are Morana. My Morana. You’re the girl I killed for and you’re the woman I’d die for. You are mine and you are exactly where you’re supposed to be. Don’t ever question that again, do you understand?”
“I don’t believe in marriages. I don’t believe in men who wear their rings with their wives only to take it off later. But I believe in loyalty. I believe in commitment.”
And with one woman he loved beside him, searching for the other he had lost, Tristan felt loved, accepted. Whole.
