Page 209 of The Robin on the Oak Throne

Their eyes locked as his hand touched her cheek. “Let me show you.”

There was no linked connection. No magic that twined like a braided string. But there was something more, something deeper, crashing together as their bodies joined. As if summer and winter had met at the heart of the calendar year and colossal storms raged in the midst of their collision. It was life and death and trust and lust and hope and sacrifice.

In all of it, it was love.

She saw what she looked like through his eyes. The first night they had met. The night she had played the part of his pet and he’d known he was a goner. The feeling of holding her in the subway tunnels as she cried. Thinking he’d lost her forever not once, but twice. And the long months ofplanning to make it all right. The weeks together where he’d proven himself to her.

They finished together, riding a tidal wave down to the shore. As their breathing slowed with their hearts joined as one, the rest of the world disappeared entirely.

Graves swept her hair out of her face, placed a soft kiss on her tender lips, and said, “I love you.”

Her eyes lit up, overcome by the admission. “I love you, too.”

Chapter Sixty

It was several minutes before either of them had the ability to move. Kingston was waiting somewhere above them. They didn’t have endless time. And yet neither seemed like they wanted to relinquish this sanctuary.

Finally, they cleaned up, and Kierse changed into one of Graves’s shirts. He returned from the closet in boxer-briefs, his holly tattoo visible as it threaded up his arms to his chest. He held a package out to her.

“What’s this?” she asked, sitting on the bed.

“Before…this,” he said, gesturing all around them. “I had a present for you.”

“A present? What is it?”

“Open it and find out.”

She took the box gingerly in her hand, removed the gold ribbon, and then tore into the shiny black paper. Inside was a flat black velvet box. Jewelry? Something to wear tomorrow?

She glanced up at him, but he signaled for her to continue. She lifted the lid, and her heart leaped into her throat. Nestled inside was a knife.

Not just any knife—her father’s knife.

She removed it, holding the worn handle reverently. It was the wrong fit. Her father had been a giant of a man. But still…her father hadheldthis knife.

Her finger moved to the blade, and she hissed as it pricked her. It was still sharp to the touch. She sucked the blood away as she looked over the symbol carved into the metal—antlers around an Irish knot.

“It was his war band,” Graves said. “The symbol of his people.”

Kierse looked up hopefully. “Are they still around?”

“A few of them.”

“I could meet them?”

He nodded. “Though they were monster hunters and likely disagreed with your parents’ marriage as well.”

“Of course,” she said in understanding. But there was still hope. There might be family out there somewhere. “You kept this all this time?”

“I’d forgotten about it until the last time we did memory work and you recalled it,” he said. “It should belong to you.”

“Thank you.” She pressed the knife to her chest as tears came to her eyes. “It’s the best gift you could have given me.”

She had so little of her parents. She hardly even had memories of them. So much had been taken from her. All she had was this knife and her wren necklace.

She wanted more.

Suddenly, holding the knife, she felt as if she was ready. Ready to face her past. To face what happened to her parents.

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