I nod against him, but the tears aren’t stopping. They just won’t, no matter how hard I will them to. I’m covered in her blood and my own. I didn’t want to wait to make sure the babies were safe, but now all I want is to get out of these clothes and wash all of this away.
“Shh, it’s okay, baby. You’re safe now,” he murmurs, his lips brushing against my temple.
His words send a wave of relief washing over me, and I try to focus on his presence, on the love and safety he offers. On the fact that I’m back in the palace and I’m alive and I can feel my babies moving and it’s okay. I’m okay and they’re okay and we’re all going to be okay.
“Let’s get you a shower and into comfortable clothes,” Sebastian suggests as he carries me upstairs. He won’t put me down. I tried, but he refused to release me even with the doctor. It’s like he can’t handle the distance between us, and honestly, I’m not complaining about it.
I need it too. I need to know he’s here and that I’m safe and that we’re okay.
Because I’ll admit, I had some seriously dark moments and thoughts when I was locked in that stone fortress. I wasn’t sure if I’d ever get out or if Charlotte would ever return, and if she did, I was positive she’d kill me.
I also wasn’t sure about Sebastian.
For the first time since I met him, I wasn’t sure about where we stood. Even before we were together, when I was just the nanny and he was my growly, grumpy beast of a boss, I always knew where things stood between us, whether that was hate or lust or love.
But I was more than just a little rattled after walking out of here yesterday. That gives me a second of pause. Wow, has it only been a little more than a day?
Entering the bathroom, he gently sets me down on the edge of the tub before starting the shower. The sound of water hitting the marble is soothing, a reminder of normalcy. A reminder that I’m home. As the room fills with steam, Sebastian begins to undress, discarding his clothes with haste. Then, his attention turns to me.
“May I?” he asks softly, his eyes full of tenderness and concern as his fingers hover over the hem of my shirt. I nod, grateful for his care and understanding after these last twenty-four hours. But also…I hate that he’s so gentle with me. I hate that he asked instead of taking command. It makes me feel fragile. Like I could break at any moment. I don’t want to feel breakable. I want to feel invincible.
Especially right now.
I’m angry and a bit broken and just…fuck, I don’t even know all that I am right now.
But feeling fragile feels like Charlotte won and I lost, and I can’t do that. I just can’t.
As he carefully peels away my dirt and blood-streaked clothing, I can’t help but feel exposed, not just physically, but emotionally too. Each article of clothing that falls to the floor is like a layer of protection being stripped away, leaving me raw and open to him.
“This isn’t how I want to be,” I whisper, my throat tight with emotion as I watch him toss the last remnants of my ordeal aside. “I can’t stand it. It makes me want to scratch my skin off.”
“Explain that to me.”
And fuck, I love this man. He’s not judging, he simply wants to understand. Asking how he can change it.
“I don’t want to be weak. I don’t want to be caged or trapped or vulnerable or waited on or overly cared for like a piece of delicate china.”
He smiles, and his smile is rogue. It’s impish. It’s fucking sexy and it tells me he gets me in a way only he can.
“My queen, you are the fiercest warrior I have ever encountered. I watched Nora’s helicopter explode and I shut down completely. I shut my world down. And I did it again the moment I saw you on the floor in the kitchen. But you… you never shut down. Not fully. You fight, even when you’re down. Even when you want to retreat. Even after you lost your father, you fought for your happiness more than I ever did. You are the bravest fucking person I know, and I will forever hope to be you when I grow up.”
I bark out a laugh at the way he says that. In English. We bounce in and out of French and English with regularity, but he said this so it would translate, and it did.
“You can’t be me. You can only hope to contain me.”
He chuckles and dips down to kiss my lips. “I knew that the moment I met you. The moment I fell in love with you. Where I am weak, you are strong. And where I am strong, you are stronger. But no more. I am the king, your ruler, and I will never be weak for you again. Ever. I’m ashamed of how I was.”
I stand. “I’m dirty, Your Majesty. I need you to clean me. Please, sir.”
And just like that, his eyes turn to black wildfires.
Because this is us. This is how we do things. We may not be conventional, but we get each other. We see the darkness that lurks, we see the blinding light within, and we revel in both.
“Come with me, Your Majesty,” he commands, holding out his hand for me. And the fact that he just called me that? Fuck! I am empowered. He just gave me so much power with that title. This man… “Let’s get you cleaned up and dirty all at the same time.”
Yes!
That’s what I fucking need.
