Page 116 of She Who Holds My Wrath

No matter what I knew, I still would have gone to her. I still would have reached for her with blood on my hands, and darkness at my back. I still would have made her mine.

Because I am a selfish bastard. Became some loves are worth becoming monstrous for. Because she is the most precious thing this universe has ever created, and even now, I would burn every realm twice over for one more lifetime at her side.

Despite everything—despite the war, the loss, the blood spilled in the wake of our love, despite every terrible thing loving me has cost her—I would do it all again. I would choose her in every life, in every ending, in every world where my soul can still recognise hers. I would face every bit of harm and injustice, just to be able to say her name. Just to be able to call Daisy Sandoval mine.

I stare at her for just a while longer before leaning down and placing a feather light kiss to her forehead. Her scent envelopes me, the faint hint of lavender that used to feel like home now making my chest ache. Her scent is now mixed with that of Hell. The faintest mixture of brimstone and smoke, clinging to her to make her even more addictive. I allow myself to enjoy it for just a moment before turning to leave.

My fingers barely brush the door handle before her sleepy voice drifts over to me. “Korithax?” she whispers.

I turn to see her propped up on one elbow, rubbing at her eyes with the opposite hand. “Hey, little flower,” I murmur softly, offering her a small smile. “I was just leaving.”

“Stay?” The way she says that single word cracks something open in my hollowed-out chest.

My inner demons immediately go to war. Stay and risk hurting her. Leave and emotionally hurt her regardless. There is no winning here. Not a single outcome that doesn’t leave pain behind.

“Please.”

She says it so quietly, voice rough with sleep and something softer, something needier, that my throat tightens painfully. I press my forehead against the cool wood of the door and force out a slow breath.

“Daisy, I⁠—”

“I’m not asking for anything,” she says quickly. Her voice cracks, and my hands curl into fists at the sound of it. “Just… lay with me. For a little while.”

I squeeze my eyes shut, trying to ignore the way The Void coils beneath my skin, alert and listening. Trying to ignore the fact she still wants comfort from the monster she claims as her husband.

I stand there for several more agonising seconds. Then I give in. Because I have never known how to deny her anything. I cross the room back to the bed, remove my boots and lie beside her on my back, staring up at the intricately carved ceiling. For a moment, neither of us moves. The only sound in the room is our breathing, slow and uneven as we lie side by side.

Gods. Why do I feel like I might be sick? Here I am, lying beside my wife and there is a strange fluttering low in my stomach I do not recognise. Something tender and humiliatingly vulnerable.

Am I… nervous?

Slowly, I inch my hand across the mattress towards hers. My fingers hesitate just for a moment, before I extend my pinky and brush it softly against hers. She stiffens and shame slices through me so fast I nearly pull away. Of course I fucking ruined it. Idiot. Fucking idiot.

A heartbeat later, she moves. Her small, warm hand slips into mine, our fingers lacing together. I close my larger hand around her tiny delicate one, my heart rate spiking from the simple contact.

I missed her. Gods, I missed her. Even this, just her hand in mine, sends electricity racing through my veins. The bond between us hums softly, alive with something dangerously close to joy. But beneath it all, The Void closely watches. Assessing. Waiting.

Before I can gather myself, she releases my hand and rolls onto her side, pressing her body against mine. My breath catches at the sudden contact. Her head settles on my chest, and my arm instinctively curls around her. The sweet, honeyed scent of her shampoo hits me, and for some strange reason, my eyes suddenly burn with tears.

I grit my teeth and stare at the ceiling, body rigid with the effort not to break.

You’re going to hurt her, The Void purrs.

I squeeze my eyes shut, fists clenching as my breathing turns shallow, coming in soft, unsteady pants as I internally battle between wanting to hold her tighter, and wanting to run before I destroy the only good thing I have ever touched.

“Shit. Sorry, I didn’t think,” Daisy murmurs, panic threading her sleepy voice.

She starts to pull away so quickly, it’s as if she thinks distance will save me from myself. Without thinking, I tighten my arm around her waist and drag her back against me.

“Stay,” I whisper.

The word is so quiet I barely hear it myself. It feels like a surrender, but one I’m glad to give to her. For one awful second, I think she won’t have heard it. But then she melts into me, settling her head back into the same place on my chest as though there is nowhere else she’d rather be. And the simple acceptance of it nearly ruins me.

You’re going to end up killing her, The Void croons, delighted by how close she is. By how easy it would be to hurt her in this position.

But I would never. No force in this realm, or any other, could ever make me hurt a single hair on her head. I would tear the stars from the sky first. I would sacrifice myself to the gods before ever harming her.

“Korithax, you’re shaking,” Daisy murmurs.