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She shakes her head.

“Sweetheart, you don’t have to…”

“I know.”

I lift her hand to my lips.

For once, there is no command in my voice.

No arrogance.

No demand for obedience.

Only the truth.

“I was worshipped by thousands,” I whisper. “But you’re the first person I’ve ever wanted to worship.”

Her breath catches.

“Morpheus…”

“I’ve spent centuries believing desire was a weakness. That to want something was to surrender power.”

I press a kiss to her knuckles.

“Then you came into my life and ruined every certainty I possessed.”

She laughs softly.

“Sorry?”

“Don’t apologize. I rather enjoy being ruined by you.”

Her fingers slide into my hair.

I close my eyes.

Sweet merciful Hades.

That touch.

I will never grow accustomed to it.

“I don’t want you kneeling because you think you owe me something,” she whispers.

I open my eyes.

“Then allow me to kneel because I choose to.”

Her expression softens.

“You really are impossible.”

“Impossibly handsome?”

“Impossibly arrogant.”

“Impossibly devoted?”