Page 93 of His Eternal Claim

“I would have hunted you to the ends of the earth under any circumstances, Dolcezza,” I swear, my voice dropping into a deep, reverent whisper. I lean down, pressing a firm, lingering kiss to her forehead, sealing the vow against her skin. “Listen to me. I know what you think of me. But I am giving you my word right now—I will never hurt your Mother, and I will never hurt you. If you are deciding to sleep in my bed to make sure I keep your Mother alive, I assure you I am not a man who will go back on his word. You do not have to please me; take your time; I am giving you enough of that. This is my promise to you, Dolcezza. You are safe here.”

She lets out a shaky breath, her eyes searching mine in the dark, the confusion and intensity of the moment holding her captive. She doesn’t pull away from my hand. Slowly, her eyelids flutter shut, the exhaustion of the day finally pulling her under.

I keep my hand against her cheek, watching her fall asleep in my bed, knowing that tomorrow the war continues—but tonight, she belongs to me.

One step at a time.

Chapter 32

Mercy

THE REQUIEM | Past

Ido not remember falling asleep. That is the first thing I notice, and bizarrely, it is neither the warmth nor the weight beneath my cheek, nor the steady rise and fall of a chest that definitely does not belong to me.

I had no nightmares, though for weeks every night had been the same. The blood—screaming, hollow eyes of people I don’t remember.

I would wake drenched in sweat, choking on terror, searching every corner of the room for ghosts that no one else could see. But this time… there is nothing. Only darkness and the man who owns it.

My eyes flutter open as morning sunlight spills through the curtains, and for one brief second, I lie there before the realization crashes into me.

I am curled against Zagreus. One arm is trapped between us, and my face is pressed into his chest. His hand rests loosely near my waist, and I jerk backward so fast I nearly tumble off the bed.

“What the hell are you doing?”

His voice is rough from sleep.

I glare at him. “I should be asking you that.”

His one dark eyebrow lifts. “You attacked me in your sleep.”

“I did not.”

“You absolutely did.”

“I would rather throw myself off a cliff.”

“I believe that.”

The infuriating bastard looks amused, and heat rushes into my cheeks. I hate that he notices the effect he has on me.

I hate that I care enough to allow myself to believe there was still a soft spot in me for him. That there are fragments of the man I loved in the man I claimed to hate.

Without another word, he reaches for the blanket that had slipped off me and wraps it around my shoulders. The gesture is so simple that it catches me off guard.

“Shower and freshen up; breakfast is waiting.”

I blink. “That’s it?”

“What else would you like me to say?”

His gaze flickers over me. “Congratulations on sleeping?”

I throw a pillow at him. Unfortunately, he catches it. The smug look that follows makes me consider murder. Again.

Zagreus gets up from the bed, and his muscular body flexes with each movement. His back is facing me as he looks for the robe. I almost scoff. He did not care about the robe last night when he was standing there almost naked, water dripping off his skin, and his abs on full display.

I hate how attractive I still find him. My traitorous eyes track lower.