Page 113 of Monsters Carve Thrones

I kissed her forehead and let my hands brush her waist. “Ready?”

“Yeah,” she whispered.

We didn’t go far–just a little restaurant outside the city. Candlelight, jazz humming softly through vintage speakers, and a quiet table in the corner that I’d reserved days ago. It was perfect. Not extravagant. Just… warm.

Intimate.

She ordered pasta and red wine. I stuck to sparkling water, even though the smell of her wine was temptation itself. Her eyes met mine over the rim of her glass, and for a second, all the noise of the world disappeared.

“I missed this,” she said with a smile.

I reached across the table, brushing my thumb across the back of her hand. “Me too.” The candlelight flickered against her skin, and I watched her. There was still pain in her eyes, yes. Still moments where her shoulders tensed at a loud noise, or her jaw tightened when someone passed too close behind her.

But there was light there, too. The beginning of a return.

“You know,” she said after a while, twirling her pasta with her fork, “I thought about this when I was locked away. Stupid little daydreams. A dinner. A quiet night. You… smiling at me like this.”

I swallowed. Hard. My chest ached with the force of my love for her. “Every night without you... I was haunted,” I said.

“That makes two of us,” she replied, smirking softly.

I laughed, but it broke in the middle. “We’ve been through so much together. It’s actually crazy.”

She stared at me then, something shifting in her gaze. Like the weight of my words hit somewhere deep. She reached for her wine again, but her fingers trembled slightly. I covered them with mine.

“I’d do anything for you.”

“I know,” she said.

We walked outside after dinner. The night air was crisp, stars bright above us. I held her close, her head leaning against my shoulder as we strolled toward the edge of the overlook behind the restaurant. Neither one of us said anything at first. It was nice to just enjoy this moment together. We were safe. We were together.

Then she looked up at me.

Those eyes. God, those lovely blue eyes.

“Do you still want me?” she asked. Barely a whisper. “I know I’ve been... I mean... I was…”

I froze.

“Are you serious?” I turned to face her, both hands cupping her face. “Adela… I’ve never stopped wanting you. Every second of every day, I’ve wanted you. Dreamed about you. Your moans. Your hands on me. I’ve wanted you so much I thought it might fucking kill me. It almost did. What thatfucking monster did to you doesn’t take away from who you are.” I trailed off, suddenly remembering my own crime against her. “No man can break you.”

She inhaled sharply, her eyes suddenly glistening with unshed tears.

“But I need you to come back to me. All the way. Whenyou’reready.”

Her fingers gripped my shirt, tugging me just a little closer. “I really want to,” she whispered. “I think being with you… it might help me find my way back.”

I leaned in slowly, giving her every chance to pull back.

She didn’t. Our lips met, soft, tasting of wine. Her fingers threaded through my hair, and I groaned low in my throat, pulling her closer. There was heat.So much heat.But there was also something quieter just beneath the surface. It felt like hesitancy or nervousness. My Adela... she was never this woman. But I fucking loved her. And I’d see her through anything.

I didn’t rush it. I just held her there in the starlight, kissing her like she was theonlyreason the world kept turning.Because she was.

And when I looked at her again, her cheeks were flushed, her lips parted, and her eyes were glassy with emotion. “I love you so much,” I whispered.

She smiled. “I know.”

The ride home was quiet, but it was full of tension. A thousand unspoken words hummed in the space between our hands where our fingers were loosely intertwined. Adela kept glancing over at me, and every time our eyes met, something shifted inside me.