Page 75 of Princess of Death

“Reminds you of what?” I whispered.

He never answered. “Not all people are meant to be parents. But he was always meant to be a father. I hope you judge him less for his obvious favoritism toward you. You’re the second chance he thought he might never have. You’re the balm to his wounds—which are still raw to this day.”

“I wish my brother knew.”

“Perhaps when Hawk confronts him, he’ll share that tale.”

I would never forget the image in my mind, the way my father battled three grown men with the ferocity of a dragon. He never battled me that way, showed a strength that only a god could possess. The fire in his veins was fueled by the forges of his rage—and those fires might never burn again. “I don’t think he will.” I didn’t think he ever intended to tell us about Vivian…or Lena.

Wrath’s arms were idle by his sides, and he studied my face with calm. “That loss is not yours to grieve.”

“She was my sister…my half sister.”

“But if she had lived, you would never have been born.”

“It still makes me sad. I wonder if my mother knows…”

“She does,” he said quietly.

Now I understood why the white flowers were always at their grave—because my father still loved them both…even after all this time.

After a heavy silence, Wrath moved into me again, this time cupping my face with both hands.

The distance between our hearts crippled my soul, so I melted into his touch and stepped closer to him right away, my lips finding his with softness. I missed the touch of his skin, the way he smelled, the way he could say so much without saying a word.

He kissed me back and gently pulled my bottom lip into his mouth before he let it go. “You aren’t mad at me anymore.”

“No, I am.”

He pulled back slightly to look at me.

“But I fucking missed you.”

He never smiled, but there was a hint of it now, one corner of his lips rising. He slid his hand into my hair and pulled it farther back before he dipped his head and kissed me. The kiss was slow and purposeful, full of passion and depth, not lust and desire. It was how he always kissed me, like he wanted all of me, not just a temporary piece.

He scooped his hands underneath my thighs, and he lifted me into him before he carried me to my bedroom. As always, he tenderly laid me on the bed before he slipped off my shoes and undressed me. He stood to his full height before he removed his bottoms, thick and tall like a mighty tree, his veins as roots.

It was hard to stay mad when he looked like that. Six and a half feet of man and muscle and power. His knees hit the bed, and he moved over me, making me sink into the mattress before hefolded me the way he wanted me. Holding himself above me, he looked down at me, eyes focused on my face and not my body, looking at me like my eyes were stars in the sky or sunset on a summer evening.

He made me feel seen when I never felt invisible. Made me feel special when I never felt ordinary. Made me feel so much when I thought I could only feel so little. He licked his palm and smeared the head of his dick before he guided himself inside me, watching my reaction to him like I’d never taken it before. He sank slowly, filling me to the brim before most of his shaft was sheathed in my warmth. Then he anchored his hand in my hair like I might try to escape his hold, and he rocked into me, bringing life back into my cold body, chasing away my despair with his possession.

We lay in bed together, sometime in the middle of the night, the fire slowly dying in the other room.

I didn’t care about the dwindling light or the cold that crept into the bedroom, because Wrath was enough to keep the sheets warm. His arm was hooked around my waist as he held me against him, half of my body on top of his, his lips resting on my forehead.

I was tired and could easily fall asleep, but I stayed awake because I wanted to enjoy this. I didn’t realize how much peace he gave me until it was taken away. Until I slept alone every night and wished he were there with me.

“If you were my father, would you have done anything differently?”

He said nothing.

“You hate him, but anyone else would have done the same.”

Still, nothing.

I pulled back and propped myself on my elbow so he couldn’t hide from me, so I could look down at his face beneath me.

His arm was tucked behind his head as he lay on the pillow. Not a hint of rage showed in his eyes, just calmness. “No…I wouldn’t have done anything differently. But our deals were inherently different, and there was no way for me to have escaped the way he did. Bahamut couldn’t undo the progress that your father had made. But my request…could be undone with the snap of a finger.”

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