I nod and return my attention to Delilah. She remains asleep, her face relaxed and her breathing regular. The set of monitors emits a soft beep periodically, a reminder that she’s not resting but recovering from an injury.
Will she understand that I had no other choice? That I stabbed her to ensure she’d live?
Just like I want Delilah’s love and her loyalty, I want her forgiveness. If she hasn’t figured out I’ll do whatever it takes to get those things, she’s going to learn soon enough. I don’t give up, even when the odds are stacked against me. If I did, I’d be dead.
My determination to win her is as hard and unyielding as the diamond I’m going to put on her finger.
After the Trials.
I sit down in the chair next to her bed, my gaze fixed on her face and the rise and fall of her chest. The repetitive movement keeps me still and eases some of the tension in my body. I take her hand in mine, relishing the softness and warmth of her skin, and sweep my lips over her inner wrist.
“Tibi semper sum.”?1
Chapter 3
DELILAH
Fuck a duck.
I feel like someone ran me over with an eighteen-wheeler, put the vehicle in reverse, and did it again out of spite. An unfamiliar tightness wraps around my entire body, encircling my arms, chest, and legs like an array of tourniquets halting blood flow. My eyelids are heavy, and the struggle to lift them is daunting. When I finally manage to open my eyes, the blurred outlines of the room slowly come into focus.
And then I see him. Xavier.
He’s sitting beside my bed, his hand gripping mine like he’s afraid I’ll slip away. His posture is rigid, the lines of his face drawn tight with an emotion I can’t decipher. Concern? Guilt? Or is it just exhaustion? If the sun shining through the window is any indication, several hours have passed.
Since he tried to kill me.
The memories from the rooftop slam into my brain all at once: being dragged onto the platform. The Obsidian Order members. The pain of the blade cutting into my skin.
Why?
The question echoes in my mind, swirling amidst a storm of confusion, betrayal, and an inexplicable undercurrent of relief at his presence. Xavier stabbed me, yet here he is, watching over me with an intensity that speaks of unwavering loyalty. Considering he hasn’t changed his clothing and there are dark circles under his eyes, I’d guess he hasn’t left my side.
His gaze finds mine, and I suck in a breath, unable to stop the unease coursing through my veins. “You’re awake,” he says.
His voice washes over me with the force of a tidal wave, sweeping away my initial apprehension and replacing it with resentment. Maybe I should be afraid, but if Xavier wanted to kill me, he would’ve when I was unconscious.
“Why?” It’s the only word I can get out, a whisper that travels far in the quiet room, carrying the weight of my heartache.
Xavier doesn’t look away as pain flickers across his features. Then he schools his expression into a guarded neutrality that’s reflected in his measured tone.
“I had to.”
“That’s not good enough, Xavier.”
“It was the only way to protect you.”
His eyes drill into mine, seeking understanding, but I don’t have it to give.
I withdraw my hand from his. “That doesn’t make any sense. In what context does stabbing me keep me safe?”
“If I didn’t throw the knife, they would’ve killed you.”
He leans closer, his delicious scent enveloping me in an unwanted embrace. It grips my lungs, squeezing them. I keep my thin breaths even and ignore the quickening of my heart at his nearness.
“It was the first Trial,” he says. “I had no choice.”
“There’s always a choice.”
