“Come here,” he urged, his arms wrapping around her. She nestled into his side, and he stiffened.
“Shit, I’m sorry.” She tried to pull away, but he dragged her back to him.
“Don’t you dare,” he muttered, stroking her dark hair and pressing a kiss to her temple.
For a moment, they lay there together, his fingers idly weaving through her curls. She kept her ear on his chest, feeling the comforting rhythm of his heartbeat. Each pulse seemed to resonate within him.
Alive.
Alive.
Cyrus is alive.
“Maybe… Maybe Gaia can create aneweye for you,” Prue mused, tracing circles along his chest.
Cyrus’s chuckle rumbled against her. “It’s all right, Prue. I can live without my eye.”
Her brows furrowed, and she sat up to look at him. His expression was so…calm.How was he handling this so well?
“You aren’t upset?” she asked.
He took a deep breath, turning his head to gaze absently at the cavern wall. After a long moment, he said thoughtfully, “No.”
Prue’s lips parted in surprise.
“I thought I would die,” Cyrus explained. “Trulydie. It wasn’t like when I brought you back from the dead. Thistime, it wasn’t my choice. And I was fighting harder than I’d ever fought before. Your face appeared in my mind, and I was… filled with regret for all the days we wouldn’t share together. All the moments wasted. The life we could have had… just gone.” His eye turned glassy with looming tears. “When I lost consciousness, I expected to awaken as a lost soul in the rivers of the Underworld. I knew I would see you again, but it wouldn’t be the same.”
His fingers intertwined with hers, and he brought her palm to his lips. Her blood heated when his mouth brushed against the back of her hand.
“I’m just grateful to be here with you now,” he whispered against her skin. “For however long it lasts.”
“You say that like this is temporary,” Prue said with a frown.
Cyrus arched an eyebrow. “Isn’t it? Your people need you.”
“Ourpeople need us.Bothof us.”
Cyrus sighed. “They have no use for a crippled king.”
Rage roared within Prue, and she drew back to fix him with a withering glare. “Don’t you dare insult my husband like that. You think since you’ve lost an eye that that makes you any less of a king? Does the loss of my ear make me any less of a queen? We were both wounded in a battle foughtfor our people.Your injury makes you a war hero, Cyrus. Not an invalid.”
“I have made so many mistakes, Prue,” he said in a shaky voice. “So many lives lost because of me. I can’t—I can’t—” He broke off with a shuddering breath.
“You are learning,” Prue said gently. “Andso am I. We can learn how to be King and Queentogether.I’ll be with you. Always, Cyrus.”
Cyrus stared at her, his eye filled with wonder and awe. “How? How, after all this time, are you still here by my side? How did I manage to snare such a perfect goddess like you as my wife?”
Prue snorted, then smirked at him. “I believe it had something to do with pomegranate seeds and a spell gone wrong.”
He tugged her so she lay against him once more. “There was nothingwrongabout it, darling.”
She turned her head to gaze at him. His eye sparkled with delight as he leaned in to kiss her. His lips were soft and tentative, almost as if he were… afraid.
Her hands framed his face, drawing him closer as her tongue glided along his. She refused to let him be gentle with her. She caught his lower lip between her teeth, and he let out a low groan.
“You’re mine,” she whispered. “I don’t care if you’ve lost an eye or an arm or both your legs. Don’t you dare forget thatyou are mine,Cyrus.”
He was panting, staring down at her in surprise and longing. “I—I’m not the same anymore, Prue. Things will be different.”
