She kneeled by the fireplace, stoking the flames. It was already warm, he guessed, but he was chilled and would need more to return to his normal temperature.
She sat on the chair near the fire and gestured for him to sit across from her. He had never been so grateful, having warmth and Daphne in that small space.
“Daphne,” he said, his voice rough. Outside, in the cold, he had tried to rehearse small speeches, thousands of them it seemed. But here he was now, and he could only do well by pulling the threads of truth and unspooling them. “I was wrong. Not only that, but I was also a fool.”
It wasn’t as painful to admit his mistakes as he thought it would be. Daphne was the woman he was willing to humble himselfbefore. All of this would be worth it if he could have her back, and he was not certain he deserved that reconciliation.
He was no longer the Wolf before her, but a broken man.
His voice was raw, scraped clean of the armor he always wore. “I let grief consume me,” he said quietly. “I stared so long at what I lost that I stopped seeing what was still before me. My mother. My sister. Their deaths became my reason for everything. For every ruthless decision, every wall I built. I told myself it was justice, but it was nothing more than revenge wearing a noble mask. And in building those walls, I shut you out. I told myself it was to protect you, that if I kept you at arm’s length, fate couldn’t take you from me too. But the truth is, Daphne, I only left you to fight alone. I made you face your pain without me when I should have been your shield.”
His voice broke on the next breath, rough and low.
“That is not protection. That is cowardice. I betrayed my vow. And yes, we did not marry for love, not at first, but I meant every word I spoke at that altar. I meant to keep you safe, to honor the sanctity of what we began. I failed in that. So, I’m here to face whatever you choose for me. To bear your anger, your silence, your contempt if I must. Because I am done hiding behind grief and vengeance. I came here for one reason: to ask for your forgiveness. And this time, Daphne… I will not walk away until you believe me.”
He looked at her, hoping that she could see her desperation.
Daphne was fair to him. She had opened the door, but perhaps she did so that he would not die. She was a kind woman, and he had taken advantage of it. She listened to him.
When she spoke, her voice was full of pain. It was no longer detached and emotionless. “I trusted you when you were nothing but a stranger. There was an immediate connection between us, but I wondered if it was just my imagination. Perhaps it was unfounded hope. I wanted to get to know you and I almost burned for it. It didn’t faze me. What affected me was the way you behaved afterward, pushing me away. I am more afraid of that than any danger. I know you married me because of Briarwood but I did not expect you to discard me as soon as he was gone.”
“I—I didn’t discard you,” he protested, even though he tasted the truth of her words.
“It hurt that you chose your ghosts over me. Am I not enough?” she asked, her voice cracking.
“There will be no excuses, Daphne,” Adrian promised, his hand reaching for her.
His hand got too close but not enough to touch her. He would not dare force his affection on her when she was still angry or at least considering if he was worth the time.
“I take full accountability,” he continued, “I accept that I have been a coward and ruined what we had. I love you, Daphne, andif I must spend the rest of my days telling you as much, I shall never stop speaking those words.”
Honesty.
She deserved nothing less. His hope rose a little after seeing her face soften. Her eyes followed him and then the movement of his lips.
What does she see in me now?
“I love you, too, Adrian,” she finally confessed, a strangled sob escaping from her mouth. “I fell in love with the Duke who made a vow to save a stranger like me. I love the Duke who is kind, and even the Wolf who protects. Yet, I want you to trust me, too. Listen to what I have to say.”
It was all that he needed to hear. He crossed the space between them, falling on his knees before her.
At first, he rested his face on her lap, sobbing. He might be the Duke of Wolfcrest, feared by many, but he was no longer afraid of crying. He needed to feel, and she was leaning down to him, meeting him halfway through her own tears.
Adrian reached for her cheek and caressed it. She leaned into his hand. When he was younger, he thought that he should never show any weakness through crying. He needed to fight. To avenge.
Today, he realized that crying was never a sign of weakness. It was a sign that he was human after all. Nobody had made him numb. Not yet. No.
“I will do just that, my duchess,” he promised, his voice gravelly. “I will trust you forever. One thing is for certain, I will never let you go.”
He tugged at her and pulled her close enough for a kiss. It was a reverent kiss, one borne from despair and longing. One that was careful. He just let his lips press on hers, still not quite believing she was there. But she was, oh she was.
She kissed him back, releasing long pent-up emotions. She just sealed their reunion.
Before he could further deepen the kiss, a tiny voice broke the spell.
“Your Grace,” Hector greeted from the doorway, rubbing his eyes.
But why was the boy up so late at night?
