Page 82 of Iron Crown

I grabbed her face in my hands, taking my forehead to hers. My hands clawed at her cheeks, wanting to bring her closer while my mind fought and fought and fought…

I loved that she asked me to stay.

It was exactly what I wanted to hear. A balm to my pain, even though our own tragedy loomed over us like a dark cloud.

“You remind me ofThe Kiss,” I whispered.

“By Francisco Hayez.” She blinked, her glassy eyes on mine, as her fingertips traced over my cheek, down to my jaw, my throat, before landing on my chest.

I couldn’t feel her palm through the body armor, but I knew she had placed it above where my heart beat for her.

“There is danger all around you, and you do not see it.” I had said these words to her years ago. I was a different man back then. I wasn’t a husband. I wasn’t a father. “It’s time I slay the enemies that would harm you. It’s time that I be the man who deserves your kiss.”

I kissed her again, cupping her jaw in my hand, stealing her breath for my own.

“I cannot live unless I do this for you. I cannot face myself each day if I do not do this now.”

“Why do you have to be so fucking dramatic?” Her voice was weak and broken. It sounded the way I felt. “Fucking Irish…”

I chuckled, placing a kiss on her nose. “Because I am who I am, love. You would not love me any other way.”

“I will love you more if you come back alive.” Her stubborn jaw flexed as she looked at me in challenge. “If you are here to help me raise our son.”

I smiled, because she said what I hoped she’d say. Even though I knew, in my heart, if I were gone, that someone else, arealAaron Jackson, would do just as well in my place.

I am my father’s son. Maybe it was best that my son was not raised in the image of the Greens.

I banished the thoughts of someone else kissing my wife. I forced the thoughts of someone else being called “Da” in my place.

“Tell me you’ll come back,” she whispered, the tear she’d fought back now falling down her cheek.

“I’ll do my best.”

I kissed her tear away, wiping what remained with my thumb.

She tilted her head down, looking away from me, and I wondered for a moment if she’d look back at me with hatred and scorn, declaring those terrible words—I hate you.

But she didn’t.

Instead, she nodded. “And if something happens, I promise. I’ll talk to Dairo.”

It was a concession. A compromise. A comfort.

I couldbreatheagain.

The relief of it almost made me fall to my fucking knees.

“I’m sorry,” I finally said, taking in the scent of her hibiscus perfume and the mango oil she still used to tame her wild hair. “I took an untamed, free Goddess and tried to put you in a cage. I was wrong to do so.” I brought my lips to hers because I was a weak, fragile man, and I just needed one more taste. One more kiss. One more moment. When I pried myself away, her eyes were wet with tears. “Don’t shed these for me, love. Not for me.”

I wrapped my arms around her shoulders, then ran my fingers through her curls, feeling their roughness on my palm.

“A chuisle,” I whispered into the curl of her hair that tickled my nostrils. “You are my pulse, and Cillian is my blood. Without you, I am nothing.” I held her head to my chest, willing for her to hear my heartbeat. To know that she was who it beat for. “Without you, I amnothing.”

I blinked away tears. My men were seeing enough of me on my knees today, and they didn’t need to know more.

“Eoghan, don’t go.” Her voice was soft. I could barely hear it. I thought I had imagined it, until she said it again. Louder. “Don’t go.”

If I could have died in that moment, when she forbade me from leaving her side, I would have gone a happy man.

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