Page 258 of The Poison Daughter
But he holds me firm, one hand pressed to the back of my heart and the other pressed to my scar.
He kisses my temple. “Don’t run. Stay with me.”
My instinct to fight is much more practiced than the instinct to surrender. How dare he throw my whole life off course. It’s unforgivable to leave me stranded here with no path back to my old self. I feel rattled and raw, stumbling on drunken legs.
But I let him hold me. I lean my head on his shoulder and breathe in the cold mountain scent of him. Until my heart slows enough that I can flop onto the bed.
Henry lies down beside me. He whistles as he takes one last look at me before he pulls the blanket up over us.
“I wish you could understand how fucked I was the first time I saw you,” he says. “Divine damn me. You were so stunning. I couldn’t believeyou let me sit at your table. And then when I walked into the contract signing the next morning and saw that it was you—that was when I knew how screwed I was.”
“Because you wanted to fuck me?”
He grins and kisses the tip of my nose. “So prickly. No, because you were as clever as you are beautiful…andI wanted to fuck you.”
“At least you’re honest.”
“Some of the time.”
He studies my face in the low light, and I pray to the Divine he doesn’t bring up my mortifying mid-fuck admission. I search for anything else to say.
“My parents have been working with Stefan, and their plan once they killed you was going to be to marry me off to him,” I blurt.
Henry’s eyebrows shoot up. “Another terrible idea on their part.”
“They have few ideas that aren’t.” I brush his damp hair back from his forehead. “Everything will change tomorrow. The rumors about Rafe are spreading. I know it must feel so unsatisfying for you to have this lie be the thing that brings him down, instead of the wrongs he’s actually done. But taking him out of power will only protect other women. If it wasn’t my sister, it would have been me, and if it wasn’t me, it would be someone else’s sister.”
He stares up at the ceiling.
“It doesn’t bring Aidia back, but it does make me feel a little bit better,” I say. “Killing him would probably make me feel most at peace.”
There’s recognition in Henry’s voice when he murmurs, “Because then you’ll know for sure he’s gone—that he can’t do it again.”
We lay there for a while in silence. He stares up at the ceiling, and I lie on my stomach, studying his profile.
“My parents are dead,” I whisper.
Henry goes so still, he’s not even breathing.
“I killed them.”
“How?”
“Slowly.”
I thought he’d be upset that I robbed him of his vengeance, but he just looks relieved.
“I guess you got what you wanted,” I say.
He lets out a surprised laugh. “Technically, I wanted to kill your father personally.”
“I’m sorry I stole that peace from you.” I mean those words.
He runs his fingers down my spine and over the bumpy topography of my scar. “Truth be told, I think you more than earned your own peace. What does that mean for South Hold?”
“Able is still alive, but?—”
Henry arches a brow. “But?”
