His focus lands on me, studying my chattering teeth and deep breaths.
In a swift motion, he takes off his jacket and drapes it over my shoulders, his cologne surrounding me. He cups my face in his hands and presses a kiss to my dry lips, a soft, reassuring touch that sends warmth back into my black soul.
“Let’s go, princess,” he murmurs,his voice like gravel.
I nod mechanically, my body moving before my mind can catch up. I’m too exhausted to resist, too worn down by everything that’s happened.
My hands are numb, and my body aches all over. Thankfully, he helps me into the back of the SUV, his hand on the small of my back.
When I slide into the seat, he joins me and the door slams shut.
I can’t speak, not with the lump in my throat, not with the torrent of emotions crashing through me.
Finally, he breaks the silence, his voice low and full of concern. “Are you hurt anywhere else, Livvie?”
I stare at my bruised wrists, raw from the cuffs. The bruises are already starting to darken, the marks a vivid reminder of the violence that will always be a part of life.
Without saying another word, he reaches over, his hand gentle as it wraps around my forearm. He brings my wrists to his lips, pressing a kiss to the bruised skin.
His lips linger there for a moment, a silent promise of protection.
“Livvie…” His voice is strained. “Look at me.”
Tears sting the back of my eyes, ready to fall any second.
“I’m fine,” I lie, my voice croaky.
He doesn’t argue. Instead, his hand slides to my waist and he drags me toward him, shifting my body so that I end up sitting on his lap, facing sideways, my arm pressed against his chest.
I’m exhausted, but his warmth, his powerful presence, is the only thing I need right now, and somehow, without telling him that, he gets it.
The tears I’ve been holding back finallystart to spill, one by one, and I bury my face into the crook of his neck, unable to stop sobbing.
“Shh…” he whispers. “I’ve got you, princess. You’re safe with me. We’re going back to our place and I’m not going to leave you. I promise.”
But we both know that's not true.
The Red Tribunal wants blood, and if it's not his they sacrifice, it's my whole bloodline.
Eventually, the SUV rolls into the underground car park of our apartment block, the lights flickering on, announcing our arrival.
My heart still pounds, but it’s slower now, the rush of panic beginning to fade, replaced by an overwhelming exhaustion.
Kingston’s arms tighten around me, holding me close, the rhythm of his breathing almost lulling me to sleep.
As the car comes to a stop, he kisses the tears from my cheeks and follows the streaks with his thumb.
“Enough of that, princess,” he says in a low rumble. “No more tears for now.”
Without replying, I nod and take a deep breath before climbing off his knee, my legs weak as I move. When the car door opens, I step out first and wrap my arms around myself, hugging tightly, shivering from shock.
Kingston moves in behind me and snakes his arm around my middle, holding me flush against his chest. The coarse hairs on his jaw tickle my cheek when he leans into the side of my face, landing a featherlight kiss on my temple.
I look down, my heart skipping in my chest at the flash of gold on his wedding finger. It catches under the bright light, a simple band, but to me,it’s everything.
He didn't take it off after our argument. And now that I think about it, it’s stayed in place since the day we exchanged our vows.
The weight of that ring, ofhisring, makes my heart ache. A reminder of the false commitment we made, of the life we’re tangled in, and how he’s the only person in this world who’s my anchor.
