AllFreeNovel
Share Us
His mouth crushes to mine, my arms circling his neck as the world around us disappears.
Two broken pieces, fitting together perfectly.
Two black, bruised hearts, beating together as one.
EPILOGUE
CILLIAN
The bedroomI once kept in this house is currently being occupied by my bride. In Castle’s room, I straighten my tie in the mirror before stepping back to check myself over.
Black tie. Check.
Black shirt. Check.
Black suit. Check.
There are parts of me that’ll never change. There’s no “fixing” or plastering over the darkness, the violence, and the monstrousness in me, and there never will be.
But there is a tempering of it.
The Japanese have an art form called kintsugi, which is fixing broken pottery using molten gold to fill in the cracks. The gold is then left to harden so that the final repaired piece has lines of gold snaking through it, making it even stronger.
That’s Una and I.
I’m the broken black bowl. She’s the gold filling in the cracks. Smoothing out the jagged edges. Softening the viciously sharp points.
Making me whole.
No. There’s no changing what I am. But the woman I love, who I’m marryingagaintoday, doesn’t want me to change, just as I don’t want to change her. There’s a blackness in both of our souls. There are wounds that will slowly harden over with scar tissue, and time.
Apart, we’ll break, wither, and die. Or eventually succumb to our own demons.
Together, we’re unstoppable.
There’s a quick knock on the door behind me.
“Come in.”
It swings open, and Ares limps in, leaning heavily on his cane.
“Happy wedding day, asshole.”
We haven’t gotten a chance to talk much in the last two weeks, since the madness that went down at Gail’s apartment. But, as predicted, ten stitches, some antibiotics, a tetanus shot and some strong painkillers that made him say some seriously loopy shit later, Ares is going to be fine. He’ll do some physical therapy for the leg, but it’s not going to be an injury that sticks with him.
Believe me, I’m pretty good with human anatomy. And with knives. I knew what I was doing.
Well, mostly.
I smirk at him as I turn. “Nice cane.”
He squints at me. “Don’t even fucking start.”
“What? It’s a very ‘Godfather’ look, Ares. And, I mean, youarethe head of a criminal—”
“This thing is going up your ass if you don’t knock it off.”
“Are you making me an offer I can’t refuse?” I huff in my best Brando impression.
