Page 98 of The Incendiary

“Take me to your uncle,” I calmly ordered.

She shook her head, lip trembling. “I can’t.”

“Ella.” My fury toward Simeon Whitlock burned hotter. “Take me to him right now so I can fix this.”

I would find a way to stare that asshole in the eye and make him fear me. If not today, then tomorrow. I was never letting her go. She deserved the world, and that fucking sorcerer wasn’t going to keep me from giving it to her. He would have to kill me, and I didn’t plan on making it easy for him.

“Gavin, I…” All the color left her face as she tightened her features, feigning indifference. “I don’t love you.”

The words stunned us both. Her delicate hands clenched and unclenched at her sides. Silent tears streamed down her face, but rage wound me up so tight I felt I was about to explode.

But I didn’t, because it wasn’t true.

“You don’t love me, do you?” I calmly asked. She had never said the words, but I knew. Her love showed in the way she buried her face in my neck when I held her. The way she kissed me even after she said it was time to part. The way she laughed freely in my arms and looked up at me like I was her home.

Or maybe I’d become obsessed to the point of delusion and simply couldn’t accept a reality where she didn’t love me back.

“You, my Ella, are a terrible liar,” I growled. “One of the infinite number of things I love about you is that this world hasn’t fucked you up enough to be a good liar. And fortunately for us both, I can read you better than I can read the back of my hand.”

“Gavin.” My name was a weak plea on her tongue. “We⁠—”

“We aren’t over.”

She sucked in a ragged breath. Her eyes bled with mourning and acceptance that I couldn’t stand. “We have to be.”

“We. Don’t. End!” I insisted. “Gods, Ella, please don’t do this.”

“I tried to tell you the dangers and the complications of this from the beginning.”

“And I told you I didn’t care.”

Her bottom lip trembled. “Gavin⁠—”

“Is this because of last night?” I stepped toward her and thanked the gods she didn’t retreat this time. Last night, I’d snuck into the castle after our night at the tavern, just as she’d requested, and we’d spent hours in each other’s arms while our mouths danced a slow, savoring, languid rhythm. That was as far as I let it go, but I held her all night, in her bed. Had it been too much, too fast?

“No! That was—” She swallowed hard, looking for the right words. “—the best night of my life.”

My chest warmed at the memory, then tightened at the realization that it could be the only night we’d ever share.

“I’ll talk to Simeon,” I insisted, reaching for her hands. “Take me to him. Let me try.”

“No!” She pulled away and wrapped her arms around herself like she was cold. “I don’t want him anywhere near you!”

“Why? What did he say to you?” I searched her face for answers, but she avoided my eyes. “Did he threaten me?” She winced, and that was all the confirmation I needed. “Is that what this is? You’re trying to protect me?” I shook my head, driven by the same firm resolve I felt the night I first saw her and decided she was mine. “It’s not your job to protect me, Ella. It’s my job to protect you.”

Her eyes snapped to mine, blazing with anger. “How is that fair?”

“Because I’m me, and you’re you.” “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“It makes every bit of sense.” To me, it did. I was nothing but a bastard cared for by two people who pitied me. I was unimportant. For so long, I had felt ashamed of who and what I was. Unclaimed by a father I didn’t know. Responsible for the death of my own mother: a young woman whose life had been ruined by my existence. For a long time, the shame had been so heavy I thought it would crush me. Without her, I think it would have.

That shame disappeared the moment she looked at me. When she chose me.

“You are it for me. You are everything,” I promised her, my body burning from the unbearable ache in my chest. “You, Ella, are everything I was meant to find in this life, and I am scared of nothing but a life without you in it.” I held out my hands in supplication because she had every power over me. “You’re my best friend. You’re my family.”

“You’re going to have to move on.”

“There is no moving on from you!” I explained, so distraught that my own eyes grew damp and blurry. When I reached for her hands, she finally let me take them. “Loving you then losing you is not a life I want. I wouldn’t trade the chance to love you with anything in this life or a thousand more. Even if you tell me you don’t want me⁠—”