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“I let them take me,” he said without looking into her eyes. “I wasn’t there to protect you like I promised. And then…”
She sucked in a breath. She wanted to linger on the things he’d said, but he was talking. For the first time, he was talking, and she wanted him to get it all out.
“And then?”
“Then I… I wasn’t strong,” he said.
“How so?” she asked.
He met her gaze, and she had to force herself not to flinch at the anguish in his eyes. “I screamed, Kira. I… cried. I begged them to stop.”
She reached out to touch his face. “They hurt you. Anyone would do those things.”
He stood up so suddenly he startled her, and she watched him pace to the edge of the terrace, his gaze traveling out into the darkness. “I’m not anyone.”
She stood and joined him there. “No, you’re my husband, and I want you to talk to me. To tell me how you feel even when it’s ugly or scary. That’s what marriage — what love — is.”
He turned to look at her, his eyes flaring with something like anger. “And what if I can’t? What if I’m not capable of that kind of love?”
“I don’t believe that. It’s scary to let someone see every part of you. I understand that as much as anyone. But I don’t want a two-dimensional marriage where we both pretend everything is fine when it clearly isn’t.”
He shook his head and paced away from her clearly agitated.
“I want the real thing, Lyon. I want to know you. Every part of you.”
He turned on her suddenly, face contorted, eyes blazing. “You married the Lion,” he shouted.
She forced herself not to retreat. Lyon had been angry with her before, in the early days of their marriage when she’d pushed and pushed, enjoying the power she had over him.
But he’d always been in control.
This was different. She could feel his rage boiling beneath the surface of his skin, saw his fury in the set of his jaw and his fists at his sides.
And yet she wasn’t afraid. She knew with every ounce of certainty in her body that he would never, ever hurt her.
She walked toward him and took his face in her hands. “I may have married the Lion, but I fell in love with a man.”
His expression turned to one of agony, and she was almost tempted to tell him to forget the whole thing.
She forced herself to remain quiet. This needed to happen.
The only way out was through.
“What do you want from me?” he asked, his voice tortured.
She didn’t let go of his face. “Everything.”
“And what if I can’t give that to you? What if I’m not strong enough?”
She shook her head. “I don’t believe that. My husband is the strongest man in the world.”
Silence weighed heavy between them.
“Having nightmares doesn’t feel strong,” he finally said, his voice halting. “Waking up screaming doesn’t feel strong.”
“You survived being Vadim Ivanov’s prisoner for almost five weeks. They beat you and cut you and threatened you, and still, you told them nothing. Tell me a man alive who could have done the same.”
“But I’m… I’m not the same.” She waited, letting him find the words. “When we went to the water crib to get Vadim, I felt…scaredin the tunnels. They made me remember all those weeks… that feeling of being buried, of being lost forever. I’m not sure I’ll ever be the same.”
