Page 37 of Devoted (Love and Burlesque #2)

CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

KNIGHT

“But he who dares not grasp the thorn,

Should never crave the rose.” Anne Bronte

B lood continues to bead on my finger from the thorny rose I picked for Vivian in the garden.

I searched for ten minutes to find one matching the shade of her dress perfectly.

Using my bare fingers, I removed every thorn to make the flower safe for her.

And when I noticed my blood descending the stem, I dripped a few drops onto the pedals for good measure.

The bloodied rose now sits in my jacket pocket as I wait outside, surrounded by friends and family, all here to witness Ezekiel’s proposal. Vivian steps onto the balcony alongside Alek, nearly empty glasses of champagne in either of their hands.

As the proposal starts, Vivian comes to stand by me, and I quickly relieve her hands of the champagne flutes, setting them down on a small table behind us.

The little smile I get from her as a thank you makes my entire week.

The kind of emptiness I’ve felt being away from her these past few weeks is something I never want to experience again.

Finally up close, I can properly admire the way her dress hugs every curve and accentuates the golden glow of her skin.

My ears might be full of Ezekiel’s beautiful words, but my eyes cannot tear away from Vivian as he speaks them.

I’m astounded at how similarly, yet so very differently, we’ve managed to find our loves.

“One might think I’m insane for falling so quickly.” Ezekiel laughs, and it resonates within me. My obsession with Vivian started the moment I saw her, and my love for her feels as certain as death.

“Nothing in my life has felt as correct and logical as us being together,” Ezekiel continues, and it’s like he’s articulating the words I’ve been too afraid to speak.

Vivian must feel the accuracy of his words, too, as her arms shiver and eyes fill with tears.

My love turns toward me, and I watch as a tear slips from her eye.

Taking off my jacket, I move to stand behind her and I drape it over her shoulders while Ezekiel continues his speech.

While everyone is still distracted, I lift the back of the jacket so I can sneak my hands beneath.

My wandering hands remain hidden underneath the jacket that drowns her smaller frame.

I guide her hand to the pocket containing the rose and let go once I feel she has wrapped her fingers around the flower, choosing to rest my hand on her waist instead.

She scrunches her eyebrow in confusion before turning her full attention to the object in her hand.

Her fingers run through the crimson liquid still adorning the rose, not ceasing to rub it between her fingers even after letting out a small gasp when she realizes it’s my blood.

Looking over her shoulder, she stares at me in an expression of wonder and lust, eyes open and pupils dilated in response to the little gift I’ve given her.

“If you’ll have me, thorns and all,” I lean forward and whisper into her hair during a very loud cheer from our friends and family once Alek says “yes.” Squeezing her hip, I back away from the stolen moment.

A blood oath to my queen.

My bleeding hand leaves a trail of blood on her fingers as I back away from her, and we move to join our family at the center of the balcony.

Celebrations and cheers continue, and for what might be the first time in my life, I feel like I deserve to be surrounded by this happiness.

This time, with my happiness joining the revelry as well.

“I love you,” I declare again . I must have admitted the words at least three times by now. Vivian sits in the passenger seat of my car, her hand entwined with mine, resting on the center console.

“Yeah, I know,” she chuckles, clearly amused by the way I can’t seem to stop saying I love her.

“I’ve known for a while, I was just waiting for you to admit it, but now I guess you can’t shut up about it.

” She lifts my hand, moving it toward her face.

“How embarrassing for you,” she teases before kissing my hand and leaving a huge smear of lipstick.

God, I want to be covered in maroon by the end of tonight.

Ezekiel and Alek’s engagement happened fairly late in the night, so we didn’t have to wait long for the rest of the party to clear out. Being some of the last to leave, we weren’t questioned when we both got into my car.

Giving her a rose, even one dripping with my blood, isn’t going to cut it for my apology and my declaration of love. The rest of my life will be spent proving myself worthy of her love, and it’s the only kind of life I want to live: a knight in service of his queen.

“Where are we going?” she asks, noticing we’ve turned onto a road that won’t lead to my house. There’s something else I need to show her tonight, and where better to show her than the place that’s been our shared sanctuary since we’ve met, The Garden of Eden.

“We need to stop by the club first. If you don’t mind,” I comment, keeping my eyes on the road while I squeeze her hand reassuringly. “There’s something I’d like to show you.”

“Hmm,” she hums. “Color me intrigued.” With a shift of the leather seat beneath her, I can tell she’s trying to contain her excitement. My little gremlin loves surprises.

My hand is hidden underneath her dress, grasping a handful of her luscious thigh as I drive into the club’s vacant parking lot.

All the employees are celebrating the time off with their loved ones, and I am too.

My love is tucked into my side, still dressed in my jacket with the bloody rose in the pocket, as we walk into the club and away from the chilly night air.

“I’ve never been here when it’s this empty and quiet,” Vivian observes, looking around the lowly lit booths and tables.

“I can’t imagine it’s ever quiet when your brother is around,” I state, a bit of humor lining my voice. She laughs and nods in agreement, stepping closer to me, and I take her into my arms.

“I knew you’d let me in.” Vivian’s voice shakes. Her hands are graceful as she takes my face into her hold, eyes boring into me.

“It seems you know me—and see me—better than I see myself,” I sigh, lifting one of my hands to cover hers. “I’m only sorry it took so long. I’ve been a fool.” Nuzzling into her palm, I groan lightly, feeling her nails scratch through my unusually long scruff.

“We were both foolish thinking we could keep this casual, Knight,” she whispers soothingly. Without realizing it, we’ve been swaying back and forth to the tempo of a dreamy song. One I’m certain plays in her mind just as it plays in mine.

Resting her head on my chest, Vivian’s body rises and falls with a deep breath as I take the lead and move us around the empty, unlit house of the club. Ghosts of my past would occupy the seats on a normal day, but it’s only promises of a bright future that surround us tonight.

A twirl in her vision of a dress. A dip and a deep kiss. And our imaginary song comes to an end.

Vivian’s eyes shine with unshed tears as she looks up at me. I will never know what I’ve done to be deserving of her love, but I vow I will only see happy tears in those hazel eyes from now on.

With a gentle sweep of my thumb, I catch a stray tear, wiping it away from her beautiful face and leaning down to kiss the spot it fell from. With a great show of will, I manage to step away from her, knowing there’s one more thing I need to show her tonight.

“This way, my darling.” Keeping her hand in mine, I lead us downstairs to her office, making sure she doesn’t trip down—or up—the stairs again. She follows without a word, only a vice grip on my hands that’s so painful it’s pleasurable.

“What did you want to show me?” she asks, looking around her office curiously.

In her costume room, a neglected cabinet in the corner of the room has housed some of my art projects. Walking over, I pull out the portfolio tucked between the wall and the cabinet, my hands shaking as I place the black leather case on her desk.

“My latest project, a month in the making, has been inspired by you,” I explain, pulling out a large page of sketch paper with my creation on it.

I’ve seen it so many times I could redraw it from memory alone. Vivian’s face, however, is a sight I could never attempt to perfect in any medium. One that can only exist in the sight that stands before me.

Her eyes are trained on my drawing, as my eyes are trained on her.

Vivian takes in every detail. A drawing of a conservatory to match a Gothic castle.

Delicate leaves and thick, thorny vines mix with dead flora that encase the glass panels of the greenhouse.

Life and color only bloom in the center of the conservatory, where a woman dressed in black holds a rose like Mother Nature, herself.

From the tips of her fingers, she breathes life back into the macabre room.

How Vivian has breathed life back into me.

“I don’t have words,” she comments, still mesmerized by my creation.

“I drew this because I didn’t have words, either. At least—” I pause when she takes her eyes away from the drawing to stare at me. “At least not ones that could embody what I feel for you as accurately as my art could,” I confess, feeling suddenly shy.

“This… matches your back tattoo,” she begins. “Knight, are you going to get me tattooed on you?” Her eyes are wide in anticipation.

“I am. I want a tattoo I can take pride in showing, not one that was only created to hide the sins of my father,” I utter, fighting against my body as I feel my muscles begin to tense, speaking of the past. “He… was not a kind man, and even at a young age, he had high expectations of me that I could not fill. My dyslexia was more severe when I was younger, and it was a point of shame for him, as was my defiant attitude, in his words.” Gulping, I force myself to keep talking and looking at Vivian.

“I was only seven when he died, but all I remember feeling is relief for myself and my mother.”

Tears begin to fall from Vivian’s beautiful eyes, and I rush around the desk to hold her. Hugging me tightly, she sobs into my shoulder. I’ve not cried in decades over my mistreatment, but the sight of seeing her face wrench with worry might make me join her.

“You were just a kid,” she murmurs, and then I notice she’s not crying out of pity for me. She’s angry. “I’d kill him if he were still alive.” I know better than to assume she says those words just to say them.

My queen is vengeance.

A strange comfort washes over me, hearing her words. Obsessive couldn’t begin to cover how we feel about each other, I know that now. I feel it profusely.

Our love is transcendent, and it’s nothing to hide. It never was.