Page 70 of His to Destroy

I squeeze my eyes shut, breathing him in.

The guilt radiating off him is almost tangible.

But so is the fierce, burning love.

"I know you are," I whisper back.

And I do.

I believe it more than ever now, down to my bones.

Because the man holding me now isn’t the boy who turned his back on me.

He’s the man who would burn the world down to protect me.

I don’t know how long we stay like that—his forehead pressed to mine, my hands tangled in his shirt like he’s the only anchor keeping me from floating away.

But slowly, a quiet strength builds inside me.

A decision.

I pull back just enough to meet his eyes.

"I’m tired of running," I tell him, my voice rough with tears. "I’m tired of being afraid of shadows. Of letting what he did define me."

Gaspare's hands tighten around me, his grip grounding.

"I want to face it," I say, voice trembling but sure. "Whatever comes. I want to face it."

Tears blur my vision, hot and relentless.

But I don't look away.

Gaspare watches me like I’m something precious. Like I’m something holy.

"You don't have to do it alone," he says fiercely. "You’ll never have to do anything alone again."

I choke on a sob and fall against his chest.

He catches me easily, wrapping his arms around me, holding me like he’ll never let go.

"You’re safe," he whispers into my hair. "With me. Always."

I feel the words wrap around my broken pieces, stitching them together slowly, gently.

"You’ll never have to fear anyone again, Almeria," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the crown of my head. "Not while I’m breathing."

I sob into his chest, letting it all out—the fear, the anger, the grief, the relief.

And for the first time since that night so many years ago, I believe it.

I believe him.

I believe us.

The soft patter of small feet on the marble floor draws our attention.

I lift my head from Gaspare’s chest, hastily swiping at the tears on my cheeks.

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