“Nothing, Charlotte.” He pulled back and met her eyes, the intensity of his gaze leaving no room for argument. “When I tell you we’re going to figure this out, I mean it. We’re going to get your sister back, and we’re going to make sure that bastard never hurts either of you—or anyone else—again. Do you trust me?”
Do you trust me?
They were only four little words—words Charley should’ve been asking Dorian, not the other way around. But now she was locked in his unrelenting gaze, his honey-brown eyes seeing right through her, stripping her down to the core.
She was vulnerable and scared, ashamed at everything she’d done to bring this situation to his doorstep, but when he looked at her like that—like he believed in her, like he had total faith in her ability to get through this or anything else, like he loved her—she felt strong, somehow. Capable. Wanted. Cared for. Unstoppable.
Forgiven.
Charley’s heart expanded in her chest, and the moment felt suddenly huge and all-encompassing.
The question…
Dorian’s intense eyes…
Those four little words…
They weren’t just talking about getting her sister back.
Charley blew out a breath.
She’d never, ever trusted a man before—not like this. She’d learned that lesson early on, and though she’d regretfully and stupidly allowed her life to be dictated and controlled by men for decades, she’d nevertrustedthem.
But Dorian wasn’t those men. He was a vampire. He was a king. He was strong and honest. Sincere. Protective. Even after everything she’d put him through—all the lies, the trickery, the games—Dorian Redthorne hadn’t run away. He hadn’t turned her in to the police, or threatened her, or twisted her weaknesses into something he could use against her for his own gain.
Whatever had happened between them, whatever she’d done to betray him, Dorian Redthorne had come back for her. He loved her. He washere. Now. Right by her side. And one look into his eyes told her that he wasn’t going anywhere—no matter what.
“I trust you,” she whispered, and those three little words from the bottom of her heart paved the way for the next ones. “You have my heart, Dorian Redthorne. Tonight, and always.”
They were the same words he’d said to her last night, but only now did she truly understand the depth of their meaning. Loving someone… That was easy by comparison. But giving someone your heart? Freely, without strings, without expectations? It was exhilarating and terrifying, like jumping off a cliff and having no idea what awaited you at the bottom. No idea if there evenwasa bottom.
But you took the risk anyway, because you knew—youknewit was worth it.
Charley smiled, and then closed her eyes, her body slumping forward with exhaustion.
Dorian caught her against his chest, resting his chin on the top of her head.
“Ah, love,” he said, so softly Charley wasn’t sure she was meant to hear it. “What have you done to me?”
And then, for the second time that night, Dorian’s strong arms encircled her, lifted her up, and carried her away to a better place.
Chapter Thirty-Seven
“Isabelle? Is something wrong?”
Dorian had just gotten Charlotte to bed, and now he returned to the study to retrieve a much-needed bottle of his favorite scotch. But instead, he found the witch pacing before the fireplace, her shoulders bent with the weight of bad news.
“I need to speak with you,” she said urgently.
“Were you able to trace Sasha’s location?”
“I’m still working on it, but this isn’t about Sasha.”
“Charlotte?” His chest squeezed tight. “But you and Colin said… She’s fine, Isabelle. I’ve just gotten her settled. She’s already feeling much better, and—”
“Dorian.”
Her sharp tone, the uncharacteristic use of his first name…
