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“I know the hurt is loud, but it won’t always be.” He holds my hands, like they’re butterflies caught in a warm hug. “One day it’ll stop screaming at you. It’ll become nothing more than a whisper.”
He may have been a monster hewn from a dark and bloody era, he may have been a murderer once upon a time, but he was my monster. Mine.
He has been speaking … I just haven’t been listening. The bluebell heads … The sheath … This … Trinkets of affection passed to me with silent hope I slashed and stabbed.
He saw me … yet he still came to Bahari. Stood before me and absorbed my blows. Tried to sponge my pain and stop me from hurting myself. Me? I took one look at his monster and murdered him.
Despite the prickly ache deep inside my chest, I find myself sadistically proud of her perfect shot. Nice try.
You’re the happily ever after I don’t deserve.
You can’t escape me, Milaje. You’ll have to trap me in an iron coffin and drop me in the middle of the fucking ocean, and even then, I’ll haunt your dreams. Your nightmares. I’ll haunt you even when you try to die.
“She’s in danger. And there’s something in her eyes that tells me she doesn’t even give a fuck.”
“That’s what family does, Laith. We untangle our shit, no matter how messy the knot is.”
“You know, I still wonder why Jakar chose Rhordyn to be the bearer of his runes. Of the great gift of his divine power. I’m sure he regretted it when that savage immediately wiped out almost the entire race of Unseelie, then hunted what was left like dogs.” I laugh to myself, loud and twisted. He has no idea how wrong he is … No. Fucking. Idea. Jakar didn’t gift Rhordyn shit except barbed chains.
I blink, but continue to hold his gaze, something in those inky depths screaming for me to trust him. Problem is, I don’t trust myself. Not now. Not ever. “I’ll wait forever, Milaje.”
I’d crumble worlds just to see her smile.
I almost tell him they died with him. That I took a wrong turn, and now the road is dark and lonely with nothing but monsters decorating the shadows. That I’m one of them.
I don’t want to hurt her. I want to fucking mend her.
I want to touch him. Feel him. Love him.
I moan, swallowing a whimpered beg for him to do it again. And again. For him to do it forever.
“You deserve better than that …” Than me. Because I’m broken. In pieces.
“My love will tear you apart.” He digs his hand into the hair at the back of my head. “Then I’ll die a happy man,”
“I bow to no one, but I’ll get down on my knees before the Gods and beg you to choose this. To live.”
“If I fall—” “We’ve spoken about this,” he rumbles, and I pause, cutting him another glance. I won’t determine your steps, Milaje. I’ll even let you trip. But I refuse to let you fall.
Love him today, hate him tomorrow. I’m not going anywhere.
“Your first mistake was assuming a measly four-letter word could encapsulate the way I feel for her,” I say, tilting my head to the side, slicing Mersi with a stare I hope she feels all the way to her bones. “Your second was assuming I’ll ever let her go. Make a third and we’re done.”
“Because I refuse to live in a world where you don’t exist.”
