Page 124 of She Who Holds My Wrath

He wraps his arms around the back of my thighs, thumbs stroking slow, comforting paths up and down. I melt instantly, leaning forwards and resting my head against his shoulder, nuzzling my face into his neck. He smells exactly the same—smoke and earth, with a hint of rich spice and warmth. It’s home. My heartbeat steadies just a little as his presence envelops me.

“There’s something you’re not telling me, little flower,” he murmurs.

I stiffen. Gods, I hate that he still knows me this well. Even now, after everything. Even after how much we’ve both changed, he can still read me like an open book.

I pull back just enough to look at him, fingers idly threading through his shoulder-length hair. “There’s another,” I say quietly, my pulse immediately racing.

“Another what?” he asks, searching my eyes as if he’d find the answer in them.

“Creature,” I swallow. “Monster, actually. Vesindiyah called it, the World-Eater.” The words feel poisonous on my tongue. “She said she wasn’t certain it’s returned. But if it has…” My voice drops. “Nothing will exist anymore.”

His eyes widen—just for a fraction of a second—before his face goes back into calm control. “She isn’t sure?” he asks.

I nod, feeling too queasy to respond. He must sense my unease, because he pulls me in closer again, wrapping his arms around me, one large hand moving in slow, soothing strokes along my spine.

“Then we research,” he says evenly. “We learn what we can. But we don’t let fear run ahead of truth. Not yet.”

I nod, managing a small smile, but I know my face betrays me anyway.

“Hey.” He tilts my chin up again, forcing my gaze to meet his. “It’s going to be okay. If I can survive death, we can survive anything.”

A breathless laugh escapes me before I can stop it. “But did you survive it?”

The second the words leave my mouth, I regret them. He stills. His thumb pausing where it had been stroking softly over my cheek. “Shit—Korithax, I’m sorry.”

He doesn’t pull away. Instead, a faint, sad smile touches his mouth as he cups my face. “It’s alright. I suppose… in a way, I didn’t. I don’t think any man could watch what his wife went through like I did and come back entirely whole.”

Tears burn behind my eyes so fiercely I can barely see him. My heart aches for him as much as it aches for myself. The Six have taken so much from us. Twisted us. Carved pieces out of us that can never be replaced. I hate them. I fucking loathe them.

“But,” he continues softly, “death has taught me something, too. That no matter what it costs, I will always find my way back to you.”

His forehead presses to mine. “Even if that means coexisting with an ancient evil. Even if it means months of watching helplessly, unable to reach you. I would endure the worst things imaginable, little flower, as long as somehow… I got to return to your side when it’s over.”

Hot tears spill freely down my face. He wipes them away one by one, tenderness written into every careful touch.

“I love you, Daisy,” he says quietly. “I know I am not worthy of your love. I wasn’t before, and I certainly am not now. I am broken. I am a monster living with something far worse inside me.

His jaw clenches, shame flashing across his features. “But despite not being good enough to even share the same air you breathe, I will always love you.”

His words shatter me completely. A sob breaks from my throat as I fall into him, burying my face against his chest. He catches me instantly, wrapping those strong arms around me as if holding me together is the most natural thing in the world. His hand glides through my hair, slow and soothing, while soft shushes rumble from deep in his chest. My whole body hurts with how much I love him.

“No matter what you believe about yourself,” I whisper against his skin, voice trembling. “You are worthy.”

I lift my head just enough to look at him through the tears. “You are worth more than I could ever explain. And I would endure centuries of torment if it meant I could remain by your side as your wife.”

Emotion flashes across his face so fast I almost miss it—shock, hunger, devotion, pain.

He leans towards me, slow at first, until our lips barely brush. The electricity between us is overwhelming. It’s sharp and intoxicating—like touching a live wire. The bond between us hums violently, vibrating through my bones with need and recognition.

His hand slides to the back of my head, fingers curling into my hair as he pulls me in, his lips crashing onto mine with blinding force. It’s not gentle: it’s desperate, it’s starving.

A moan tears from my throat as his grip tightens, just shy of painful, as his tongue slips past my lips and steals my breath. I climb into his lap without thinking, my knees bracketing his hips as my hand locks around the back of his neck to pull him closer.

It’s still not close enough. Nothing will ever be close enough. My body aches for him—his skin, his heat, the solidity of him beneath me. I need to feel him everywhere. To prove he is real and here and mine.

He jerks back suddenly, the loss of his mouth making a soft, pathetic whine slip from my lips before I can stop it.

“Gods,” he pants, forehead resting against mine. “I don’t know if I can, Daisy.”