Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 91164 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 91164 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 456(@200wpm)___ 365(@250wpm)___ 304(@300wpm)
It’s not Malek Lombardi’s head on a fucking stake.
And I will deliver that to her.
I will delivery Malek Lombardi’s head on a silver fucking platter for her to do with as she pleases.
Fury has my hands fisting. I force a deep breath in, exhale. Calm myself. Not now. This is not what she needs right now.
I touch her cheek, but when I do, she grips my wrist and glares up at me. She shoves my hand away, but I don’t move when she tries to climb out of the bed.
“You’re not strong enough,” I tell her as she slides her legs off the bed and her knees immediately buckle as if to prove my point.
I catch her, lift her in my arms. Instinct has her setting her hand on my shoulder. It’s the first time she’s touched me since everything. First time she’s not shoving me away. I don’t set her on the bed. I hold her to me, feeling that small hand on me, her touch waking something buried deep at my center.
She’s here. I have her. She’s safe now, no matter what happened. She’s safe now.
“Allegra.”
Her eyes search mine, seeking something.
“I hate you,” she says. “I hate you.”
I take her words. They’re like a slap to my face, a fist to my gut and no less than I deserve.
That thing that was waking now twists painfully in my chest.
“I know you do.”
That’s not the response she’s expecting. Did she expect me to defend myself when I have no defense?
Her forehead furrows, eyebrows coming together, a momentary softening of her eyes. But she blinks them closed, shakes her head. When she opens them again, they’re a shade of fire.
“You let him get to me.”
She’s right.
“I’m sorry. It’s not enough, I know, but I am. And what I will do to Malek Lombardi…” I trail off, because what I will do to him will not make up for this. Nothing I do can ever make up for what he did to her and I’m not talking only about the physical damage. I’m talking about what’s going on inside her head. Those nightmares. Her terror. “I will rip him apart limb by fucking limb, Allegra. I will deliver him to you in pieces. I vow it.”
She watches me. She doesn’t trust me. Why should she?
“I need to use the bathroom,” she says.
I nod, lift her in my arms. She resists at first, maybe she doesn’t want to be so close to me.
“Be still,” I tell her. She still struggles. “I’m not letting you go.” I tighten my arms around her. Does she grasp the full meaning of my words?
She grits her teeth and refuses to look at me, but she stills as I carry her into the bathroom.
“I can do this part,” she says when I go to help her to the toilet.
“Allegra—”
“Just wait outside.” I open my mouth, but she points to the door. “Out, Cassian.”
Although reluctant, I nod and walk out of the bathroom. I pull the door almost closed and wait for her. When she flushes the toilet, I give her a moment then go back inside. She’s standing at the sink, hands on the edge of it, holding herself up. I position myself behind her, my arms on either side of her. Her eyes meet mine in the mirror. We don’t speak. I turn on the water and wash her hands carefully in mine, taking care with the bandage, gentle with her hurt hand. I watch her as I do it, neither of us blinking.
I will make this up to her, I swear it to myself. Small things. Like this. Big things. Like Malek Lombardi’s head. She’ll see I mean it. She’ll see how sorry I am. She’ll forgive me. She’ll have to.
“It’s enough,” she says, and I nod, rinse the soap from our hands and grab a towel to dry hers, then mine. She turns to face me, still trapped between the sink and my body. She looks up at me and my heart misses a beat and all I can do is look back at her when I want to do so much more. To say so much. She’s so small. A delicate thing trapped in a world of villains. Of monsters.
“Allegra, I—”
She shakes her head, breaks the lock of our eyes and when she tries to step around me, I lift her back up in my arms.
“I can walk.”
“I’ll carry you.”
I take her back into the bedroom, pausing once I set her on the bed. We stay like that for a long minute, her looking at me, me at her, her eyes like flames.
“In pieces,” she says finally, and I’m relieved to hear it.
“In pieces,” I say it like a promise.
Her eyes fill up and I can’t imagine the nightmare in her head right now.