Her fingers curl into the front of my shirt. The city glows through the glass behind us, but I barely see it now. All I see is her profile, the soft curve of her cheek, the faint crease between her brows that only appears when she’s thinking too hard.
The adrenaline is gone. The ache in my ribs pulses in steady rhythm with my heartbeat. My knuckles throb where skin split earlier. Every breath is a reminder of what it cost to stand in front of my father and refuse to bend.
Yet, sitting here with her on my lap, I would do it again without hesitation.
I press my lips into her hair and close my eyes briefly.
I would burn for her.
I would walk into fire if it meant she never had to feel the heat.
One smile from her, one look that says she trusts me, and I find strength I did not know I possessed. It rises up from somewhere primal and unrelenting, something forged the night I lost her, and every day since.
She shifts slightly, tilting her face up to mine, and when she smiles—soft, tired, but real—it hits me square in the chest.
There it is.
The reason.
The answer.
The only thing that has ever made me feel both ruthless and redeemed at the same time.
I brush my thumb along her jaw, my voice low as the words settle into place between us.
“I would burn the world to ash if it meant you never felt the flame… because one smile from you gives me all the strength I will ever need.”
I think I just said that out loud.
Kind of intense…
Fuck it. I meant every word.
Chapter Thirteen
Seraphina
Constellations – Jade LeMac
Silent tears slide down my cheeks before I even realize it. I try to blink them away, but they keep coming, each one heavier than the last.
“Please don’t cry, baby,” Trey murmurs, his voice low and rough. His hands rise slowly, cupping my face, his thumbs tracing along my cheeks to wipe away the tears. “It fucking kills me to see these on your face.”
Trey studies my face like he’s memorizing it, his thumb brushing beneath my eye where tears have dried tight against my skin.
“Come on, baby,” he murmurs softly.
His voice is rough with exhaustion, the edges frayed, and it hits me then just how much he’s endured to get here. He only left the hospital hours ago. He shouldn’t even be standing, and yet he is, because of me.
Because of us.
He stands slowly, his hand sliding into mine, his fingers threading through mine with quiet certainty. The contact sends warmth racing up my arm.
He leads me toward the bedroom.
I follow without question.
The bedroom steals the breath from my lungs the moment he leads me inside.
