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Her heart swelled. Kade. God, this man. This amazing, lucky-to-have, even luckier-to-hold man filled her to bursting. They had loved silently for so long, they mistook that silence for sin. She cupped his face, voice barely a whisper. “You weren’t unforgivable. You were just too good to ever ask to be forgiven.” She paused, breath catching, heart wide open. “I think I knew you were mine before I ever let myself say it. That’s what I couldn’t forgive in myself.” Her eyes shimmered. “But now… I do.” Her voice dropped, trembling. “And you? You deserve it more. Because you knew long before I ever accepted it that I was yours.”
She pressed her forehead to his. “Every day since you met me, you’ve proven it. In silence. In stillness. With your gorgeous body, your honorable heart, and an unselfish soul that mates with mine so seamlessly… I will never love another man the way I love you.” A tear slipped down her cheek as she smiled, soft and sure. “It’s simply impossible.” She kissed him, slow, deep, infinite. Then breathed the words into his mouth like a promise. “Do you understand me, you beautiful man? My heart’s desire. My everlasting love.”
Then he broke again. His face crumpled, and he buried it in her neck, and for the first time, Kade Hollis cried for his brother. Cried out of relief that she wanted him, loved him, and couldn’t live without him, for the reality of Ezra and Elijah, his sons in both blood and heart.
She held him, her turn to be strong for him, arms tightening, letting him grieve now that she finally understood what it meant.
After that outpouringof so much emotion, she was thoroughly exhausted. They both were. “Let’s get cleaned up,” she murmured, brushing her hand gently across his tear-damp cheek. She loved his tears, his red-rimmed eyes, another part of Dagger that was so beautiful, allowing her to see him like this, vulnerable, open, his love for her in his eyes. They rose and entered the bathroom.
His mouth found hers with no hesitation this time, hot, reverent, claiming. He pulled her into him like the tide claiming the shore. The kiss wasn’t soft. It was a surge. A storm. A surrender.
She gave it all back.
She undressed slowly, aching with every movement, baring her bruised skin without shame. Because this wasn’t about perfection. It was about presence. Survival. Healing. Love.
He kissed every mark. Every place that hurt, his hands trembling slightly as they traced over her body. She felt it again, the dream coming to life.
Only now, it wasn’t imagined.
Now, it was real.
Water cascaded over them in waves, catching in the curves of their bodies, sliding down every inch of skin. It mingled with the heat of their flesh, mixing with the steam until everything around them felt suspended in a hazy veil of elemental passion, fire, water, breath, and skin, all tangled into one.
She burned for him, and he watched her just let go of her resistance, her fear.
He moved with her, slow and deep, each thrust carving something new between them, something permanent. Quinn clung to him, to the feel of his body, to the way his lips traced fire along her throat, the way his fingers gripped her hips with a possessiveness that stole the breath from her lungs.
He was the ocean, vast and relentless, pulling her under, drowning her in pleasure.
She was the flame, searing through him, consuming him in return.
The water streamed down their bodies, intensifying every sensation, each kiss a flicker of heat, each thrust a surge of current, every gasp and moan echoing in the steam-thick air like sacred sound.
Her breath caught, pleasure coiling fast, fierce, uncontrollable.
He whispered her name like a prayer. She cried out his like a rising scream in the dark.
He moved inside her like waves, slow, powerful, relentless. Every thrust pushed her higher, every kiss steadied her flight.
She wasn’t falling anymore.
She was flying.
Her release tore through her like lightning through flame, and she clung to him as he followed, his body shuddering with release, his breath breaking against her skin.
Afterward, when he wrapped her tight against his chest, her head against his heart, she didn’t cry.
“I dreamed of this,” she murmured.
His brows drew together.
“The morning after I kissed you. I dreamed of fire and water. You touched me and I turned to steam. You held me and I didn’t burn. I rose.”
His breath hitched. His hands came up, hesitant, until she curled her fingers into his wrists and pulled him to her.
“I need you,” she said, voice cracking. “Not to hold me together. Just…to hold me.”
He pulled her into his arms, no more ashes…they were whole.