She gave a faint, wry breath that might have been a laugh. “You already did enough.”
His mouth curved grimly, but his eyes never left her face.
“I’ve spent my whole life being told what I ought to endure,” Violet said, the words coming easier now. “What I owed. What I deserved.” She rested her palm flat on his chest. “Tonight, I am finally set free.”
Drake pressed his lips to her brow. “I may not be a good man, Violet, but while I draw breath, no one will ever hurt you again.”
She believed him.
Violet nestled closer, fitting herself to him without hesitation. If this was an underworld, then she had not been dragged here, she had stepped into it with her eyes open.
Drake’s darkness did not consume her. His darkness sheltered her.
“What about you?” she asked softly. “What made you change your mind?”
*
Fury boiled inDrake’s veins. It surged hot and violent, demanding blood and retribution, but he held it leashed, keeping his breathing under control so as to not alarm his little flame, mind already racing with all the ways he would return the favor to that damn dog in their dungeon. How could any brother do such things to his sister? Unfortunately, cruelty, he understood. He’d experienced firsthand what family memberswere capable of. However, this was something altogether different.
His little flame lay against him, warm and trusting, unaware of how narrowly the world had escaped being torn apart for what had been done to her. He inhaled deeply, lowering his chin briefly to the crown of her head, drawing all his attention to the question she asked.
What made him change his mind? Well, that was simple. “You did, love.”
She shifted, lifting her head to look at him. “Me? How?”
He held her gaze, his thumb brushing absently along her arm, back and forth, searching for words but finding none adequate enough. “I don’t know if I can explain it,” he admitted. “After my mother’s death, I swore I would never touch anything I might ruin.”
Her fingers stilled against him.
“My father...” His jaw tightened, a muscle ticking as his gaze drifted past her for a brief second before forcing itself back. “He was a cruel, calculating man.”
“You feared you’d become like him?” she asked gently.
Drake shook his head. He had never fearedbecominghis father. But that did not mean he could not destroy the same way.
“No. I feared I would leave the same wreckage behind, even unintentionally.” His voice roughened, drawing comfort from her closeness. Her skin against his. “I didn’t want to hurt any woman the way he hurt my mother.” After a moment, he admitted, “She hanged herself in her bedchamber. I found her.”
He hadn’t said these words aloud in years. His brothers knew not to ask, and other than them, there was no one else to tell things to. Except now, he had his flame, and there was nothing that couldn’t be said between them anymore. He wanted to bare it all.
“I’m so sorry,” Violet whispered, her fingers curling slightly against him.
He drew her closer, rubbing slow circles along her back. “My cousin, the Earl of Dare, was the only family who didn’t deny my existence outright. And only after he knew I existed. I lived in the gutters of London most of my childhood, stealing food to feed us, fighting for a bit of coin.”
“That must have been hard, Drake.”
He inwardly shrugged. “It was life.”
“There are also your brothers,” she said, her voice soft. “They’re fiercely loyal.”
A ghost of a smile touched his mouth, though it didn’t reach his eyes. “I never told them any of this.”
“They don’t know?” she asked, shocked.
Drake sighed. “Maxen knows a bit, how I survived on the streets of London, but not this...”
“Ah, so the treasures you keep in your heart are just like the treasures you keep in your dungeon?” Her tone lightened, a hint of mischief threading through it as she tipped her face up toward him.
His lips twitched. “Only you would call them treasures.”
