This showed she trusted me enough to let me see her vulnerability mingling with her boldness.
I looped a finger under the collar of my torn tunic, tugging it up to pop open the remaining clasps. The sound drew her attention, and her eyes swept over the line of skin I revealed at my belly, her pupils wild and dark. Heat coiled low in my gut.
“Watch me, Wildfire,” I said, stepping back to let the warmth of the chamber seep into me as I finished pulling what remained of my shirt over my head. I let it drop, no care for it now. It, like me, had seen too much battle.
Her mouth opened, likely prepared with a comeback, but it snapped shut again when I kicked off my boots and popped open the fastening at the top of my pants. The leather parted, and my cock thrust forward, tenting the front of my undergarment.
She gulped, this beautiful, bold, brave wife of mine who’d sucked me off until I bellowed.
“Nothing new here,” I said with a smirk. “You’ve seen—and tasted what I have to offer already.”
“That was…then.”
Pausing, I stroked her face. “You once asked me if I’d still exist when the curse broke, and I told you I didn’t know. As much as I ached to be whole again, I worried I’d lose who I was deep inside.” I stared into her eyes. “I’m here.Allof me. Everything we said, everything we did as Lorant and as Merrick was done withme.”
Her throat worked hard with her swallow.
“I’m Lore, the man you saved. The man you fused into one person. The ruthless assassin. The intimidating, overbearing, sardonic viper you loved at dusk has now merged with the noble, kindhearted, full-of-hope man you fell in love with at dawn. I’ve lost nothing. I see myself sitting with you on the tower roof, beside you on the throne. Holding you while you cried and soothing your pain. There’s nothing missing.”
“Lore,” she croaked, her eyes swimming with tears.
“But we can wait if you want. No pressure. I’m here. I’m me. And I’m yours.Evermore, Wildfire.” It would kill me, but I’d never push her for more if she wasn’t ready.
“Fuck, no.” Her smile curled up. “We are not waiting any longer.”
“You’re sure?”
“Completely.”
“Very well, then, wife.”
I slid my trousers across my hips, and her gaze dropped again, skimming over my chest, lingering on the sharp lines of my belly, before dipping farther. By the time I was fully naked, the color in her cheeks burned bright enough to rival the steam curling through the chamber.
“You really are pretty,” she groaned.
I traced a fingertip along the scar bisecting my face. “Pretty? Never that, Reyla. Changed, maybe. Remade by fate. But when I’m with you, I don’t feel ugly or broken. I feel seen.”
“A scar is a surface thing. No, it’s a mark of honor. You survived the cloaked figure in the woods. Wear it proudly. Who you are, your true beauty, is inside. It always has been.”
“When I look at you, it’s like a thousand wars raging inside me go still. And when you look at me like you are now, I realized I was made to believe in beauty. Not mine, but yours reflected in me.”
“There isn’t anything you can do or say that will ever drive me away.”
May the fates never challenge that statement.
“Our bath is getting cold,” she croaked, her eyes shining with tears.
I didn’t want to make her cry. I only wanted to bring her joy. “We’ll soak. Give our bones a rest.” I turned away from her heated gaze, letting her see my back, my shoulders, and yes, my ass too. A knot of need tightened between my ribs, but I kept my movements unhurried.
Her fingertip traced down my spine, ending at one ass cheek.
“See something you like?” I asked over my shoulder as I stepped up and into the tub. Steam coasted across my skin, the heat almost shocking.
Her voice, steadier now, cut through the quiet. “Only because it's right there in my face. Someone’s not very modest.”
“You adore my ass.”
She rolled her eyes and exhaled sharply. “It's not that nice of an ass.”
