She looked lost. “But—”
“I’m glad you stole me away. I’m glad you lied to me and accepted my lies so easily that we got here as soon as we did.” He took her hand. Her fingers were stiff and cold. “I thought it was too late to save my family. I thought I was alone. That there was nothing left to live for except to keep the magic of the fortress from dying, and that even that might not be worth it. But somewhere out there, I have a niece. And here—I have you. For the first time since I trusted Gerald Harper with my life and lost everything because of it, I am glad I am alive. Because of you.”
“You don’t—”
“You are my mate.”
She looked away.
“And I’m yours,” he added softly.
33
Francine
“You can’t want that. We’re both just—a means to an end for one another. I used you. You used me.”
“As I told you before, my own experience is limited, but I’ve heard that balance is important in a relationship.”
“You can’t—” She stared at him. “You can’t want this.”
“There are many things I don’t want.” His voice roughened. “I don’t want the past five years of my life to have happened the way they did. I don’t particularly relish the prospect of what’s bound to happen in the next few days. But you?”
He put a hand on her cheek.
“I will always want you.”
She met his gaze, defiant and, behind it, terrified.
“I kidnapped you.”
“You saved me.”
“I lied—”
“Ilied.”
“I’m a monster—”
“I have met monsters. You are not one of them.”
Horrified laughter burbled out of her. “I’m best friends with the woman who is going to free the Soul-Eater.”
“I do not believe your relationship with her could possibly be called friendship, at this point. And I watched you, these last few days, trying to convince yourself that she was more than she appeared. That there was kindness behind her cruelty. That she could be redeemed. Because if she could be, then so could you.”
“She tried to kill you,” Francine whispered. “I can’t forgive her for that. And if I can’t forgive her, then how could anyone forgive—”
He stopped her with a kiss.
*I see you, Francine Delacourt. Even if you can’t see yourself. Even if it would make everything easier if I despised you, I cannot. I will not. You are mine, and I am yours.*
He kissed her like he could only breathe when their lips were touching, with a possessiveness that devastated her. She’d been desired before. People loved her, feared her, because she was Francine Delacourt. Because of the power in her family name and her pride.
Not because of her.
They never lovedher.
But when Julian dug his fingers into her scalp, dragging her onto his lap and claiming her with his mouth, she thought—maybe this is real. Maybe it’s not just fate.
