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His hands tighten on my legs, as if I’m the only thing tethering him to the earth. “If you walk out that door, I won’t stop you. But I’ll be done. I’ll never recover from you. And I don’twantto recover from you.”

He finally looks up, his eyes wet and red. “Please.” His voice is ragged. “Stay.”

I smile. “I wasn’t planning on leaving. I could never leave you. I love you. I know what you’ve done. I know who you are. And I love all of you.”

For a beat, he just stares at me. Then his arms are around me, pulling me down into him, holding me so tightly I can’t breathe.

His mouth finds my shoulder, my throat, my jaw—kissing me everywhere. “I’ll give you the world,” he murmurs between kisses. “I’ll build it from the ground up if I have to. I’ll keep you safe. I’ll never let anyone hurt you again.”

His words tumble out like prayers. His hands are everywhere, as if he’s afraid I’ll vanish if he doesn’t hold all of me at once.

And I let him. Because this is the truest version of Damian Cross I’ve ever seen.

Not the king.

Not the killer.

Just the man who loves me enough to fall apart at my feet.

EPILOGUE

Damian

Ava rests against my chest, the droplets of water shimmering off her pretty skin. We’ve spent the holiday weekend at the cottage. This place will be a frequent getaway of ours. I think.

She’s always my whole world, but here I get to live like she is. At Thornecroft, I’m prior. Here, I’m hers.

I much prefer it.

Still, throughout our mini-vacation, my mind has often drifted to the conversation I’ve been avoiding. With Lucy. There’s a knot in my chest every time I think about it. About what I’ll say. She probably doesn’t have an inkling of how deep Hunter’s fixation with her runs. I never did.

But I know I’ll be able to talk to Ava. Ask her what she thinks. She won’t judge me, and she’ll tell me the truth. And even if I don’t deserve her forgiveness, I’ll cling to her compass.

Because it’s hers I trust more than my own.

But that conversation will come later. When we return to Thornecroft. For now, it’s just me and Ava.

This bathtub is too small for two bodies, which is precisely why I chose it. I always want her close. Now that she’s mine in every way, I want her closer still—tucked beneath my ribs, pressed into the spaces no one else has ever touched, until I can’t tell where her heartbeat ends and mine begins.

“I don’t want to go back,” I say, sloshing the water with my knee. “Not ever.

She lifts her hand and flicks the water. “You’re like one of those presidents who goes golfing during wartime.”

I slide my hand up from her belly and onto her tit. I cup it. “You should be happy. I’m doing less evil this way.”

“True.”

Fuck, how did I get so lucky? She loves me. Really loves me, even though she knows who I am.

“Ava,” I say softly. “How do you… Is it hard to be with me when you know the kinds of things I do?”

She twists around, pressing her wet cheek against my chest. “Damian, I was raised by a man who sanctioned virgin sacrifices. I’ve lived with him my whole life. And I loved him. I love him still. So no, it’s not hard. It’s familiar.”

I wrap my arms around her and squeeze her against my chest. “You scare me when you talk like that. It sounds like resignation.”

“It’s not though.” She lifts her head, and her gray eyes bore into mine. “I’ve grown up. I don’t love you because you’re good. I love you because I see all of you. And I still choose you. Again and again. Not for who you could be, but for who you are.”

I stroke her wet cheek. My throat’s too tight to speak. I’ve spent my whole life thinking love had to be wrestled into submission, but she just gives it.