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“You were everything I never knew I wanted. You were chaos. You were desperation. You were the most mysterious secret I’d ever come across. Everything about you drew me in—your innocence, your vulnerability, hell, even your tragic life. You were the most captivating creature I’d ever met.”
Why does he have to always look so goddamn good? Especially when I’m pretty sure I look like roadkill.
If Des were a city, he’d be Barbos. The lights, the chaos, the criminality, the sexuality, the excitement. It’s all part of who he is.
Des leans in close. “You are no victim, cherub,” he reminds me. “Not even here in the Otherworld. Pick a weapon. Make the next person who crosses you regret it.” Those are the devil’s words, wicked words, but the siren in me rallies at them. Hell, the broken girl in me rallies at them. I am no one’s victim.
He stares at me like I’m his starlight and he’s the darkness preparing to devour me.
It’s a strange sensation, letting someone you trust see you bare. It’s frightening and exhilarating all at once.
“Tell me a secret,” I say softly. I hear the smile in Des’s voice when he says, “Greedy thing. I can see you won’t be pleased until you know all my secrets.”
I am the darkness, his eyes seem to say, and you are my lovely nightmare. And no one will take this away from us.
Gah, this dude won’t shut up about it. Where is the eject button for this conversation?
I am someone’s nightmare, I tell myself. Sure, that someone is probably the next macaron I come across, but hey, we all start somewhere.
“What you did…” He searches my face. “No one will forget it. Not that woman you protected, not the room full of fairies, not the Flora Queen and her consort—and not me. Mara might wear a crown, but everyone in that room saw who the true queen was today.”
“My brave mate, my fierce mate. No fairy has ever been prouder of his woman.”
“I think we should skip more events,” I whisper. He turns his face to me, his lips brushing my forehead. “Now that,” he says, “is an absolutely brilliant idea.”
“When I close my eyes, all I see is the shape of your face and the brightness of your smile. You are the stars in my dark sky, cherub.”
“Des, I’m so sorry.” Has a sorry ever, in the history of the world, made a situation like this better? And yet I can’t not say it.
