“I might rule Hell,” I whisper, “but you rule me.”
I undo the final button and pull my hands away. She turns to face me instantly, clutching the dress to her chest, her eyes wide with disbelief. I know words won’t fix this. Not after what I’ve done, what I’ve said. So I step forward without another word and lift her into my arms. I carry her across the room and lower her onto the cushioned chair by the window. She looks like a queen already. My queen.
I lower to my knees in front of her.
“What are you doing?” She whispers.
I look up, locking onto her eyes. I want her to see me. All of me. Not the demon prince. I want her to see the broken, furious, hollow thing that she’s somehow managed to crawl inside and set ablaze.
“Daisy,” I breathe, “I’ve been cruel. Arrogant. A fucking bastard. But I swear to you—I’ll spend the rest of eternity making up for it.” I press my hand to her knee to steady myself. “A king of Hell doesn’t kneel for anyone. But for you? I’ll kneel. I’ll worship. I’ll fucking burn the realms.”
Her lips tremble as tears fall silently down her cheeks. Her eyes look into mine, like she’s seeing something worthy. I’m not. But gods—I want to be. I hope she can see that maybe, under all the power and wrath, there’s still something inside of me that deserves her.
“Say something, Daisy.” I breathe.
She sniffles. “So… that kiss?” She asks quietly.
The one I told her meant nothing. I hold her gaze and tear down what’s left of my walls to let her see inside.
“That kiss?” I say hoarsely. “Meant everything.”
Chapter 38
Daisy
There he was.
On his damn knees, saying all the things I swore I’d never hear from him. The way his suit clung to his body, his dark hair falling into those stupidly intense eyes. Eyes that were somehow soft now and not full of hatred. The future King of Hell was on his on knees for me. Gods help me, the heat curling in my stomach at the sight. Low and traitorous, making my thighs press together to alleviate the pressure building between them. My body was all in at the sight of him. My heart? Hesitating. My brain? Screaming.
He’d been awful to me. Awful. He’d thrown words like daggers, made me feel like I was nothing, and treat me like some annoying little insect he was being forced to endure. And now here he was, kneeling and being vulnerable. Saying I ruled him, like that wasn’t the most insanely confusing thing to hear.
I wanted to shove him as much as I wanted to kiss him. I wanted to scream in his face and then maybe let him tear my dress off me right here on this freaking chair.
Could I forgive him? Hell no. Not right now. But could I stop myself from wanting him? Even a little? Also no. And I think I hated that the most.
I wipe my face,trying to hold myself together. “I don’t know what to say,” I whisper, my voice shaking more than I want it to.
He nods once, like he expected that. Then he rises, slow and tense, dragging a hand through his hair. He growls, ripping out the band holding his hair and letting those dark waves fall around his face. Gods, he looked good with it tied back. But loose like this? Perfect. It framed his sharp jaw, those lips I couldn’t stop thinking about since the last time they were on mine.
“I understand,” he says softly. “I don’t deserve your forgiveness. But I’ll earn it, Daisy.”
And just like that, my traitorous heart starts thumping again, louder than my common sense. I bite my lip, unsure of what the hell to say.
“Stop that,” he says immediately.
I blink. “Stop what?”
“Biting your lip.”
I do it again without thinking. Nervous habit, clearly.
“Daisy.” His voice drops into a deep growl.
“Sorry,” I mutter, cheeks burning. I’m mortified and also… weirdly smug about it?
“You have no idea what the sight of you biting your lip does to me.”
Butterflies. There they go. Fluttering like idiots inside my chest. Traitors, every last one.
