“We need to get going, Hellion. Can you walk?” He chuckled.
Could I?
Maybe.
Did I want to?
No.
I wanted to stay in this moment, savoring the way his gaze roved over every inch of my face, feeling his awe, his joy, even his slight anxiety.
I wanted to preserve this moment, his shadow tulip like my mother’s…
A vice squeezed my chest, and Ronen’s joy dulled.
“Hey. What’s wrong?”
“I was just remembering my mother’s greenhouse in the castle. Before…”
Before my father ripped it to shreds.
Before he blamed me for my mother’s death.
Before he shattered my illusion of having a father who actually cared about me.
Who could potentially want to kill me.
“It doesn’t matter.” I sighed.
“Don’t lie to me, Hellion,” he warned.
My attention flicked to the Greek tattoo wrapped around his wrist, peeking from his uniform.
He valued truth. He could also feel everything I did. I should’ve known better, but it wasn’t like I was trying to lie, only avoid the painful conversation.
“Lucifer destroyed it.”
Ronen’s jaw feathered.
I grazed my finger against the throbbing muscle and lifted the necklace he’d retrieved for me with my other hand.
“It’s okay. I still have her here.”
His ire seemed reluctant to let go, continuing to bleed into his eyes.
“Really, Ronen. I’m okay. And we should probably get to the dungeons before Ichi leaves.”
He pursed his lips, then agreed, releasing me after a long, tender forehead kiss.
It shocked me out of my melancholy mood.
“What are you doing to me?” I whispered.
Ronen laced our fingers together and pulled me forward.
“I could ask you the same thing, Hellion.”
He held my hand the entire way to the dungeons. It was such a simple thing. Something a normal couple would do. But the General of Hell?
