“I’m okay,” I assure her, wishing I could reach up and touch her cheek, but I settle on scratching her leg instead because moving is still laborious. “Have you talked to your family?”
The muscle in her jaw pulses, her teeth clenched. “I don’t want to discuss them.”
I’ll need to dig into that later, but right now, I can barely keep my eyes open, so I don’t want to squander our time with forcing a topic she’s opposed to. She’s stuck, but I wait her out, knowing she appreciates the quiet, and she finally shares.
“I went a little crazy when I thought …” She glances away, maybe embarrassed. “I lost my mind, Maddox.”
My chest aches with a pain that far surpasses the bullet wound or surgical scars. She’s obviously tortured, and I feel helpless to take that away. But maybe like the discussion abouther family, we need to table the agony and bask in being together.
“You’re not going to try to use an insanity plea to get out of marrying me, are you?”
She laughs, wiping her eyes. “Not a chance. I’m so in love with you. You’ll make an amazing Mr. Tessa.”
“Can’t wait,” I assure her.
She burrows in closer, whispering, “All I could think yesterday was how proud I was of you, how proud I was to be yours.”
I’m not sure she could fathom how much those words heal me, how the simplest of accolades from her reshapes melted vinyl into salvaged albums, soot into fertile soil, and a ringing phone into an eternity of new beginnings.
“That’s the biggest accomplishment of my life,” I manage, though I feel myself fading. “Most people see me as a villain, but all I want is to be your hero.”
“You are, Maddox.” She kisses my cheek and lays her head on my shoulder. “And I guess since most of this chaos was my fault, I’m succeeding at being your nightmare.”
“My beautiful Nightmare, Tess, the haunting that refuses to let go of me, the one that transforms the darkness into breathtaking shadows.” That was pretty poetic for a guy who nearly died yesterday. Must be the morphine. I close my eyes, content that she’s in my arms. “Love you. I’m so tired, baby girl.”
I’m not sure if she says anything else, but she lulls me to sleep with the perfect response.
Music.
She seeks silence, but she’s become my symphony.
TESSA
The thing about silence is that breaking it is as powerful as exerting it. If executed well, the decision to speak becomes the action that unveils authenticity, intention, and loyalty.
For a long time, I harbored guilt for the places I was drawn to, the people whom I connected with, the perspectives I held. I tried to mold myself in ways that enabled me to fit where others believed I should fit while also desperately trying not to lose pieces of myself.
An impossible feat.
I was an ink splotch, desecrating the colorful sketch of a fairy tale. No matter how I spread myself around, I couldn’t seem to blend in. From the right angle, I lent an artistic edge to that picture, but from where many were sitting, it would seem I sullied it. And I harbored anger about that deep in my bones.
Emotions aren’t pretty. If I’m honest, much of that ire still prevails. I’m a work in progress—a wounded woman with a lot of lists. But I’m not alone in those messy feelings.
The Noires are such an eclectic mix of dark and light, of altruistic deeds and black-soul measures, of clandestine deals,grandiose parties, and family meals. No matter how I present myself, there’s a place for me. There always has been with them. I just had to open my eyes to the gift.
Right now, that’s on a stage and at a podium. A regal ballroom and a microphone before me. In front of the heads of the entire La Lune Noire membership, from Mafia dons to corrupt politicians to masked chiefs of secret societies.
Maddox is dashing in a suit and seated in an armchair next to me. His skin is pallid, his body exhausted, but his determination to be here for me and for his family won out.
I graze my thumb over my engagement ring, allowing the intricate lines to temper my nerves. It’s a coffin-cut black diamond because Drac is hilarious and perceptive. It’s anchored by amethyst crescent moons and smaller black and white diamonds that surround it in a pattern that mimics a chandelier and travels down the double band. It’s perfect, a memento of both of our ridiculous nicknames while also encapsulating my style. He always gets me.
I’m fairly certain he has a tracker inside it too. Well played because I’ll die before I take it off.
His brothers and Mercy encircle us—the souls who offer me a home and open arms, willing to embrace me, no matter how I show up.
Love is an action.
Axel stands to my right, addressing the most powerful underworld leaders from across the globe with authority, dominance, and poise that far surpasses a king. He exudes the eminent power of an emperor, laying down the law to his many kingdoms.
