Page 37

The bed was empty and the room silent while I waited. Dying embers crackled in the fireplace, and a chill—more frigid than before I went downstairs—descended upon me. This chill was the old familiar cold of loneliness. I shoved it out and reminded myself I wasn’t alone anymore.

Returning after twenty or so minutes, he avoided my stare as he placed a pair of pure-white satin panties with lace around the edges in my hands. I could tell just by looking at them they would fit .

“Where did you get these?” I suppressed a snort.

“It doesn’t matter.”

“Do you carry these around with you? Have you had them with you this whole time?”

He cursed. “Of course not, Aryella. I have—I have my own space here, in Tovick.” He ran his hands through his hair. And yes— red —that was red in his cheeks. I bit my lip, enjoying seeing the rare sight of a flustered Gavin Smyth. “I spend a fair bit of time here.”

“And you collect these from each of your conquests?” I giggled.

He gave me an irritated scowl. “That’s not funny.”

“It’s a little funny,” I mumbled. I didn’t know exactly how long his wife had been gone, but I expected he had experienced his fair share of women since then.

I assumed any man would. Besides, his patience was alarmingly thin when discussing anything remotely intimate around me, but I was developing a mischievous streak.

“Would you just put on the damn underwear and go to sleep?”

I jumped, startled at the panic I heard rising in his throat.

“Okay, okay,” I mumbled, eyes wide.

He watched me tensely as I held the panties to my nose to check for odor. Because, well, they were mystery panties. They looked a little old but smelled fresh and clean, like lavender.

“They’re clean. They’ve never been worn.”

“Why do you have never-worn women’s panties—”

“ Ella ,” he warned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Fuck. Please .”

“Alright, alright.” I motioned for him to turn around so I could change. “You have a filthy mouth, you know that?”

“And a filthier mind,” he growled.

My eyes widened in shock, and as usual, his words, actions, and presence all sent warmth from my cheeks to my belly.

I slipped on the panties, soft and comfortable against my skin, and muttered, “I’m decent. ”

He slowly faced me again, eyes glued to my every movement as I climbed into bed. “Good n—”

“Will you stay with me?” I rushed out, desperate to avoid the chill of that empty room. “Just until Gemma gets back from wherever she went. I don’t really want to be alone.”

He gave a hesitant pause before lowering himself into the chair in the corner.

“You don’t have to sit so far away.”

I was relieved when he stood, picked up the chair, placed it directly next to my bedside, and sat back down.

Silence settled around us. Not awkward, but gentle, soothing silence as we rested together in that dark room.

I sat upright, unwilling to lay down just yet. Or to surrender a moment with him.

I fidgeted with my thumbs. “What if I can’t do it?”

“Do what?”

“Kill.” I shuddered. For the first time in as long as I could remember, death truly scared me.

Dancing with Gemma, laughing with my friends, and this—sitting, talking, and just existing with Gavin.

I wanted all of it. I wanted to fight for all of it, but to take another life, to choose that I was somehow more valuable than another…

“What if it’s life or death and if I don’t kill, I die? ”

“You don’t hesitate.” He leaned forward in his chair. “Don’t give yourself the chance to think about it.”

“Gavin, I don’t think I can—”

“No. Do not hesitate, Ella.” He grabbed my hand and held it. “Do you hear me? You take whatever weapon you have and you stab, beat, slice, or bite the life out of them. You do not hesitate. You live, because you are invaluable.”

The weight of his words was heavy enough to level the expectations of all the people relying on me.

And I needed that—something encouraging to hold on to so I could weather those expectations.

Because without that encouragement, I felt empty, and I feared that emptiness in my chest was a starving monster destined to devour all good things before given the chance to plant their seeds and take root.

“Don’t, for a second, think that I can’t see what all this is doing to you.

” His deep, persistent tone summoned me back into his comforting atmosphere, and I came willingly.

“Look at me, Ella,” he commanded softly, lifting my chin with his forefinger, stealing my gaze.

“I see the burden on your heart clear as day. These people you’re meant to lead—they think they can define you.

Don’t let them. Don’t let your value come from a crown on your head or the power in your veins, and especially not from having a fucking Winterton at your side. ”

I choked on a tearful laugh and leaned into his touch, my heart longing for him to continue. To fill that part of me that felt empty, robbed, and controlled with his assurances.

“You are invaluable not because of your birth or your power or your blood,” he continued. “You are invaluable because you’re you. And you, just you, are more than enough to fight for.”

I forced a swallow and nodded, unsure I believed his words were true. For him, maybe they were, but not for me. I knew I could remember his face, remember him and his words and his warmth, and for him, I could fight.

He leaned back and motioned me towards him. “Come here.”

I obeyed, and he pulled me into his lap. This time, I avoided the indentation of those rings beneath his shirt. There was no crime in holding me or wanting to be held. That was all this was—all I could allow it to be.

I pretended I didn’t hear his pulse race at our closeness or feel his shudder beneath my touch. How my own heartbeat hurtled into dangerous territory. I pretended not to grow lightheaded at the knowledge that he wanted to hold me. I let him, and that was enough .

“Gavin?” I whispered, fingers light on his beard.

“Yes?”

“You really do have a filthy mouth.”

He shook with quiet laughter. “Yes.”

I traced my finger along a scar on his neck. “But you make me feel like I can do it, you know. Be queen.”

When he looked down at me, his scarred, bearded face was illuminated by moonlight. The warmth in his brown eyes made my eyes burn.

Gavin rested his hand over mine and squeezed. “And I will serve you, my queen, until the day I die.”

Filled with pure warmth and safety, I started to drift off soon after, waking only when he lowered me gently back into bed. I crawled beneath the covers, wonderfully and acutely aware of his presence.

My grin was so wide and content that it made my cheeks hurt. Because when he was near, I wasn’t afraid of closing my eyes. With him so close, my nightmares didn’t scare me.

Not when I knew he would save me from them.