My words turn strained. “Tell me everything, Valen. I need to know.” The plea catches in my throat, becoming more breath than sound. “Please.”
He softly whispers into the empty apartment’s stillness, “I had my suspicions about Viola. She’d been gone for so long and my parents weren’t getting along, but I never thought she’d be…” He clears his throat, eyes briefly closing. “I should’ve known when my mother fled.”
I hiss in a sharp breath. “Rossana left?”
He nods. “She warned that you’d never lift your curse and we would all die if we stayed. She managed to convince Emilia to go with her, but my father wouldn’t abscond. I could not endure abandoning him to rot if the curse spread like Atticus feared, especially after I was shown Alasdair. My father wanted me to understand the risk of staying, but all it did was harden my resolve. I thought I could eventually convince him to leave while we still could.”
His eyes are far, unfocused, as he continues, “Perhaps that’s why Atticus decided to use me in his plan to lure you back. Father told me to obey my Archweaver for the good of the Order, but I didn’t trust what the man had planned for you. I knew Atticus was going to rip you apart piece by piece, no matter what.”
His hand on my lower back twitches. “Your butterfly messages gave me the idea. Something so small that it’d be undetectable. I only got two words.” His eyes close. “I hoped you’d run when you figured it out. It’s why I let you steal the unicorn hair off me.”
My breath shivers. “But why bargain to try to get me to return?”
His shoulder lifts in a shrug. “If you returned, you’d lift the curse, or you’d be caught in it as well. If not, then getting you to flee was the next best thing. Then maybe my father would finally leave, too.”
My chest is tight, my heart aching. “Why did you help Lucas back at the estate? You could’ve left him to die.”
He’s silent for so long, I worry he won’t respond. “You care for him deeply.” His gaze goes far, his lips mumbling, “I was always going to try to help you escape the estate, but discovering how Atticus hung Viola’s body made me realize how much I didn’t want anything else to be taken from you. So yes, I saved him as well.”
Tears burn me, threatening to pour down my face. I force them away, my throat tightening to nearly suffocating. Too many emotions swirl confusingly within me, all battling to be known. I struggle with them, struggle with my composure, so much that I nearly miss his softly whispered words.
“Do you still have the ring?”
I blink rapidly, my breath gasping. “What?”
“My ring.” His thick lashes lift, the blue in his eyes deeper. The sunlight behind him casts his pale skin in a halo. “Do you still have it?”
I hesitate.
Sadness flickers. “I see.”
He tries to withdraw, but I tighten on him, my leg hooking over his and pulling. His gaze is downturned, his lips tight. My heart aches and I whisper the truth. “Yes.”
His eyes snap to mine.
My lip trembles. “I couldn’t stand to throw it away.”
The hand on the small of my back presses harder against me. Our bodies are closer, noses brushing. His words tickle my lips and they part in response. “For what it’s worth…” His eyes shimmer. “I’m sorry, Tori. I was a fool back then. I should’ve stood at your side in your darkest moment and I stumbled.”
My breath hitches.
“I’ve spent every day of the last seven years living in regret and wondering ‘what if.’” Pain shines in his gaze. Honest, open emotion radiates off him. “I’ve never wanted anyone like I want you.”
I can’t breathe. I can’t think. His hand slides up my spine, bringing me against his chest. I become acutely aware of how thin this nightgown is against his naked body.
“In all this time, my heart has remained steadfast in its utter devotion to you.” His lips brush mine. “I love you, Tori. Then, now, and forever. I’m utterly and completely yours.”
It’s all the sweet words I’ve wanted, all the things I’d hope he would say one day. All the slow days at the shop fantasizing about him showing up at my door to confess. My deepest wish for so long. The love that once was my whole life. All of it is right here in my arms with his beautiful eyes and the sun backlighting his perfection.
And I’ll be damned if I let it go. Not now. Not after everything he’s done.
I kiss him and it’s like nothing has changed. I’m eighteen again and my whole world exists in Valentin Bauer’s arms.
My fingers snarl in his hair and our bodies mold together. We kiss and kiss, breathing in each other like we were drowning apart all these years. My eyes burn, my chest tight. His hand catches in my nightgown and I roll on my back. His weight on me is so familiar, yet different. He’s a man now and he’s more solid, more sure. The difference is addicting and I arch into him.
We kick the blankets off to rid ourselves of the restriction. Our addiction for kissing and touching each other has never ebbed. My ankles hook around his hips, my nightgown riding high. His hard length nudges my sex and I gasp, head falling back. Shivers of delightful anticipation wrack me as he flexes his hips to brush against me again. It’s deliciously dangerous. One false move and he’ll sheath within me.
His lips trail to my neck, murmuring beneath my ear, “You’re drenched.”
