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I think I might love her.
“I don’t give a shit about any titles. I came back into the fold for one reason.” He points the wrench at me. “To win you.”
Nick sacrifices for the people he loves and I don’t doubt that he loves me more than most.
“Can we pretend for just a little longer?” Nick’s blue eyes blaze into mine, and I worry for a moment that he’ll get the wrong idea. But he just takes my hand, lifting it to brush his lips across my knuckles. “As long as you want.”
It’s a power I never knew I wanted, the knowledge that someone could be mine, any time, any way.
Kissing Nick is like trying to harness lightning.
in case I haven’t made it clear,” he ducks down to speak into my ear, “it’s you or nothing. Never doubt that.”
“You’re my girl, right?” I ask softly.
“Because he’s hooked on you as much as the rest of us, Little Bird.
It’s a big part of why I love tattooing, forcing the universe to remember my presence,
“Because we love you.”
He’s the only person who ever looked me in the eye and told me to be better, and then taught me how.
I look into his eyes, the same blue as his brothers, and wonder which man we’re talking about. My answer is the same for both.
“I love you.” It’s not the first time I’ve heard it, but it’s the first time I’ve let myself feel the weight of it.
I want to kiss someone and know, all the way to my marrow, that he’d never want to kiss anyone more.
He’s already mine. He’s always been mine.
“I’m ready to be yours.”
“But I can make you feel good.” He pauses right between my legs, hands shoving my thighs open as he gazes up my body. “I could fucking worship you.”
are as entwined as ivy, with their tangled roots and crawling vines. No one could love just one of them.
Maybe it’s not that I was so terrified of Nick before. Maybe it’s not even because I didn’t know how to be loved, although both of those are categorically true.
My Little Bird on her knees like this. I’m supposed to be worshiping her.
want to be that man for her, the kind who treats her better than a duchess—a queen.
She’s mine. I’m hers. And nothing else matters.
She could tell me she set fire to the tower right now, and I’d probably nod along stupidly.
I’m yours, and now you’re mine, so I don’t fucking care.
The night I rescued her from the cedar chest, she became mine.
If I want her, I'll have to win her. Luckily, winning is what I do.
I’m the Duchess, and I only have one priority: my Dukes.
“...white is healthy, renewal, clarity.”
The platinum hair—the white hair—which I now realize hasn't been bleached to death for the sake of a fashion statement. He’s covering his head in white, as if it could fix him, as if it could make him— Healthy. Renewed. Clear.
Currently sobbing.
“We’re all just stars inside of a grave we haven’t laid down in yet.”
The beauty isn’t in the acceptance of death. It’s in the open defiance of it. What could be more beautiful than the fight to survive?
We fall into the stars. Just like he always knew we would.
