Page 135 of The King's Man
Because if I was so sure he’d have saved me then, then he was working to save me now, too.
But.
But?
My heart thrummed, and the bond pulsed, swelling in my chest, pressing on my heart.
Jann was a good man. He wasmygood man. Meant for me. Sent for me.Wanted me.Gave himself up… Shit.
Shit.
My mind took me back to that moment when I’d shrieked at him.
“…every time I sink deeper with you, something else happens, some new nugget of information or new attitude, and I’m suddenly thrown loose again, rattling in the wind wondering when is he finally going to show his true colors?!”
“True colors?” he snarled. “You think Ihaven’tshown you who I truly am?!”
Oh, God… He had.
Over and over again.
Listening. Waiting. Protecting.
He killed the man who hurt me.
He also held back, omitted details about himself and his life that he knew would upset me.
But…
My breath grew quick and heavy, my heart sluggish and my chest tight because the fog was lifting and I was starting to seemyself.
See the way I had distrusted and twisted every small gesture in the beginning. Accused and condemned. Hatedhimfor the ways his people lived.
But not what he did.
He’d already proven that he lived differently, and urged others to do the same.
Was he violent? Yes. But so was I. Had he warned me? Yes. Had I listened? No.
I shook my hands. My ribs felt too tight. I wanted to shy from what was becoming clear, but I couldn’t. It was something Jhonas had told me once, and Yilan had hinted at. Something I didn’t want to admit, but…
Shit.Shit!
I covered my face with my hands and tried to inhale, but the thought had the ring of truth.
Once I’d gotten past hisNephilimnessmy fears were never based in the man Jann showed himself to be. I knew he wouldn’t destroy me.
There was darkness in his past, just like mine. Pains and hurts. Yet he’d turned his fear aside and come for me. He’d plowed into the Shadows of Shade for me. He carried me to walk the shadows even though they made him pale.
And he kept telling me he would not harm me, even when I harmed him.
A sick kind of dread and self-loathing washed through me as I set aside the ways I’d been hurt before and looked at his actions alone.
He’d teased me, but never hurt me.
He’d never attacked, only protected.
He’d never been cruel, only strong enough to tell me what I didn’t want to hear.
