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He gave me everything he was, and as he stood beneath the moon with Ethan’s blood painting him, I accepted every last shred of the soul he’d given.
He’d turned into a beast for me.
He’d mutilated and tortured for me.
He’d turned to me with quaking fear, terrified that his violence would make me run.
I would never run.
How could I ever run from a man who would do anything, absolutely anything, to keep me safe?
He wore blood for me.
He snapped bones for me.
With his heartless savagery, he proved, once and for all, that he was mine, and I was his, and all of this...meant nothing.
Only he made sense.
Only him.
Covered in blood.
Cast in moonlight.
Prepared to fight the devil himself to protect me.
Tears rolled silently down my cheeks.
The headache that’d grown worse the more the drugs wore off pounded in my skull.
Aslan.
My soulmate.
Without him, I wouldn’t be standing here.
Without his dedication and devotion, I might not have the power to go on.
But the way he watched me.
The way he cried when he saw my bruises.
The way he fought for me and killed for me and bound himself to me...I evolved beneath the cloak of his everlasting care.
He would help me.
He would heal me.
He would take it all away—
I cried out as the belt unravelled from my wrists and the pillowcases fell away from my ankles.
“See?” Ethan tapped my cheek. “Told you I wouldn’t hurt you.” Looming over me, he smiled as if we’d shared a consensual evening. “You were so good, baby. I’ll put in a good word for you with your bestie, okay? Perhaps we can all double date.”
I didn’t shake.
I didn’t cry.
