Page 181 of Uprising

“You would despise me.”

“I would not.” He snaps.

I take in a deep breath forcing myself to look at him as my disgust and anger coil into one unrelenting wave of anguish that it feels like I’m drowning in.

“How could I ever admit that?” I spit. “How could I ever tell you that?”

He pulls me into his chest and I bury my face into his neck while he’s rubbing my back in a way that is so soothing. “You didn’t choose that Rose. You didn’t have a clue.”

That doesn’t make it right though does it? That doesn’t make any of this right?

“No one else knows.” He says quietly. “And no one will know.”

“What does that mean?” I ask.

“Hastings has destroyed the records. As far as anyone is concerned Ignatio was your father and no one knows your mother and Darius were related.”

I should feel relief at that. I should feel better. It really is over. I should be jumping from the damn ceiling and yet all I want to do is curl up into a ball and hide in my shame and my disgust.

I don’t understand how he can even touch me right now, how he can even bear to be in my presence. I’m disgusting. I’m repulsive.

He lets out a snarl, pulling the covers off and I shiver at the sudden loss of them. He grabs my legs wrenching them wide open.

“What are you doing?” I gasp.

He stares down, his eyes flashing as his hand moves and for a second I think he’s going to touch me, that he’s about to pull my thong aside. Only instead he pulls the plaster off, twisting my leg around at an angle for me to see.

“Remember this?” He says. “Remember how you asked me to mark you?”

I nod, trembling. He’s so angry right now and I know it’s my fault. I caused this. I created this.

“You are mine Rose.” He growls. “I carved my name into your skin.” He pulls his top off and I see the bloodied outline where I did the same, where I sliced into his chest. “Your name.” He states taking my hand, running my tips along it, feeling the raised edges. “Nothing changes that. Nothing alters that.”

“But I’m disgusting.” I whisper it.

He snarls more, putting his hands either side of my head, pinning me into the headboard. “Stop saying that. You’re not disgusting. To me you’re the most beautiful person I’ve ever met. You’re the love of my life.”

My tears stream down my face. I wish I could feel that. I wish I could believe that. But I fucked my own dad. What kind of person even does that?

He cups my face, careful not to put any pressure on the bruising of my cheek. And then he’s capturing my lips in a kiss that’s so punishing I know my lips will swell. When he pulls away he holds my chin up, refusing to let me break our gaze.

“I will never stop loving you.” He states. “I will never stop wanting you. Nothing that they did will change that.”

I let out a shudder.

“Don’t let them win. Don’t let them beat us. Not now.”

“They haven’t.” I whisper it.

He’s right. I know he is. I just have to get my head around this. I just need to process it and then move on. Only that feels so much easier said than done.

His lips curl. He kisses me again softer than before and this time I kiss him back, I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him into me.

“Roman.” I gasp.

“It’s over.” He murmurs.

I wrap my legs around him, I pull him down, pull us both down into the bed.