Page 42

A fter an hour of making sure everything got done to clean the scene, and traveling back from the city—we’re finally home.

And we’re alone.

I should feel relief.

The bastard is dead.

Lucy is alive.

The blood on her body wasn’t all hers.

She’s breathing.

Talking.

Touching me.

The doctor was waiting for her when we got here after she refused the hospital.

But since there’s literally nothing money can’t buy, I had a couple of doctors, one a plastic surgeon, waiting to tend her wounds.

The cuts are shallow enough, they’ll heal, though one was deep and could leave a scar.

Only time will tell.

So yeah, I still feel like I can’t breathe.

Not with the sterile scent of gauze and iodine filling the bedroom, mixing with the faint trace of her perfume.

Not with the bandages over her shoulder hiding what that sick fuck did.

Not with her curling up next to me like I’m still worthy of her love.

Because I’m not.

I let him get that close.

I was too late.

“I should’ve been there faster,” I mutter, unable to stop the words. “I should’ve kept you closer. I should’ve known.”

She lifts her head from my chest, her eyes blazing, soft but fierce and sharp as the blue diamond on her finger.

“Balor.”

“I don’t deserve you.”

“Don’t say that.” Her voice is firm. It cuts through my spiraling thoughts like a blade.

“Don’t even think about it. If you say that, if you leave me. I swear to God—if you try to disappear to punish yourself for what happened—I will come after you.”

“You don’t understand?—”

“No, you don’t.”

She sits up, wincing slightly, the movement tugging at the fresh dressing on her shoulder and I hate myself a little more.

“I love you. I choose you. Even when the world is burning. Especially then.”

My jaw tightens. “Lucy. What happens when you see that mark without the bandage? You’re gonna remember how I failed?—”

“No,” she says quietly, touching her shoulder, not flinching.

“I’m going to remember that some desperate asshole had the fucking audacity to take me from you, and then I’m going to recall how you came in like my own personal warrior.

How you saved me from his brand. How you stopped him just in time. ”

It takes everything in me not to rip something apart.

Not to scream again.

Not to smash my fists through the nearest wall.

My fists curl tight.

“I’m going to find every one of his enablers. Anyone who helped him hide. Anyone who didn’t speak up.”

“I know you will, Husband. but I don’t need you to do that. I just need you,” she says.

She leans into me again, soothing my fury with a kiss to my collarbone. Then to my neck. My cheek. My lips.

“Angel,” I moan as she licks into me.

“Oh, and I talked to the surgeon before she left. Once it heals, I can tattoo over any trace that might remain.”

“What? You want a tattoo?” I ask, surprised.

She grins and nods.

“Mom and Dad never approved. But I always wanted one. And I think this might help get rid of any lingering bad memories.”

“Yeah?” I ask, hope filling me for the first time in what feels like too long.

“Yeah, I wanna replace his mark with something I choose. Something that’s mine.”

“What are you thinking? Like your name. Or a butterfly. Maybe a dragon wrapped in barbed wire?”

“I haven’t decided yet,” she says and smiles at me.

She’s so bright, so beautiful, it hurts to look at her.

But I do. And I’ll never stop.

“Lucy, I love you,” I tell her.

“I know you do. And I love you,” she says. “And I don’t ever want you to doubt it. Understand? I choose you. Only you.”

The heat in my chest shifts, becoming something else.

Not rage.

Something worse.

Or better.

Pride.

Love.

Possession.

“So, you gonna stay? With me?” I ask, voice low, rough with emotion I haven’t let myself feel since I tore his throat open.

She smiles. “Don’t act like you wouldn’t brand me and hunt me down if I left you, Balor Cruz. I know exactly who you are.”

“Oh, yeah? You think so?”

“Oh, I know so. You’re just lucky I happen to love you.”

I laugh, but it’s a broken sound. Caught up as I am in my feelings for this goddess of a woman, it’s a miracle I can speak at all.

“Angel, you have no idea how lucky I am.”

But I already know. And I’m about to show her.

“You’re mine. Every fucking inch of you.”

Her eyes shine. “Good. Because I already told you. I’m not going anywhere.”

She curls against me again, her fingers sliding into my hair, her lips brushing my jaw.

And for the first time since this nightmare started, my breathing evens out, and my thoughts turn to her.

She’s alive.

She’s mine.

And I’ll never let anyone come between us again.

Not even myself.