Mia shuddered, drawing her knees up to her chest. “I don’t want to talk about this.”
Grayson leaned in, every protective instinct he had roaring to life. “I need to know what happened to you.” It was killing him not to know.
“It doesn’t matter.”
He grit his teeth. “It matters, Mia. You said you deserved to die.”
She cut him a look—panic, grief, guilt, and shame swam in her eyes. When she spoke, emotion strained her words. “Please, Grayson. Don’t ask me about this.”
He refused to let his gaze drop. “You know other languages. Your accent is foreign, but I can’t place it. Your skin isn’t like mine. Are you from Zennor? Mortise? Devendra?”
Her tongue darted over her cracked lips, pleading in her eyes.
Grayson laid a hand on her raised knee, feeling the tremble that ran through her body. He softened his voice. “You were seven years old when you came here. Did my father take you away from your family? Did he kill them?”
Her breath caught.
He forced himself to continue, despite the moisture building in her brown eyes and his rising nausea. “You said everyone was dead. My father killed them, didn’t he? And he brought you here. Why?”
Mia still wasn’t breathing. Her body shook, her expression frantic.
Grayson tightened his hold on her bent knee, steadying his voice. “Whatever happened, you don’t deserve this. You don’t deserve to be here.”
“You don’t know that.”
“Yes, I do.” He hesitated, and his voice lowered. “You said you killed someone.”
Mia paled, but said nothing.
“You said you killed me, and then you said you killed her.” Pain flared in her eyes and Grayson’s brows slammed down. “You’re not a killer, Mia. Whatever happened wasn’t your fault.”
“You don’t know that.” They were the same words she’d spoken a moment ago, but they were so much weaker this time.
He ducked his head, catching her wet eyes. “I know you. You would never kill anyone.”
Mia’s shoulders tensed and she glanced away, her voice pinched. “You don’t know anything about me.”
The words punched him in the gut, because they were true. Grayson ground his jaw so tightly, his teeth ached. “Then tell me. I can help.”
“No. You can’t help me.”
He wanted to argue, but how could he? What had he ever done for her, really? He stole moments with her, gave her gifts when he could, but what did it matter? He couldn’t free her. Couldn’t protect her from the evil his father had already wrought. He couldn’t take Mia home, wherever that was. And she was right; he didn’t know anything real about her. He didn’t know where she came from, why she was here, or what tortured her. He didn’t know what she dreamed about or hoped for. And he couldn’t fault her for not confiding in him, because fates knew there were things he hadn’t shared with her—things he’d never share.
Grayson’s hand fell from her knee and he turned so his back was to her. He remained sitting on the edge of the bed, his head bowed, arms slung over his knees. Tension coiled in his shoulders and the silence burned his ears.
Mia exhaled softly and he felt the bed dip as she shifted closer. “I’m sorry,” she whispered.
“It’s fine.” His voice was carefully even.
Mia moved to sit beside him, her arm threading slowly through his. She leaned against him, her temple pressing against his hunched shoulder. “I didn’t mean that.”
His eyes remained trained ahead, his words low. “It’s the truth. I can’t do anything for you.”
“No.” She twisted until her free hand cradled his jaw and she forced him to meet her steady gaze. “You’ve saved me a thousand times and in a thousand ways. Without you, I would never have survived these years.”
Truth rang in every word, her conviction palpable. Her thin fingers felt delicate against his skin and her touch warmed every part of him. When he could no longer take the sweet torture he eased away, throat bobbing hard. “I brought you something.”
Her brow furrowed as he reached for his nearby satchel. He drew out the brown egg-shaped object and Mia took it carefully, examining the prongs and ridges with squinted eyes and curious fingers.
“It’s a pinecone,” Grayson said. “They’re everywhere in the mountains. They fall from the pine trees.”
She lifted it to her nose, inhaling the earthy scent. “It’s beautiful. Thank you.” She picked up his hand and kissed the back of it. With his gloves off, he could truly feel her lips against his skin. The satin touch seared all the way to his thudding heart.
She didn’t share anything more about her past, and Grayson didn’t ask. When she drifted back to sleep, Grayson remained wholly alert. His pulse still kicked from her impulsive kiss and he didn’t know if the back of his hand would ever stop tingling. There were things he didn’t know about her, but he knew enough. She was good. Pure.
And she had given him every good moment in his life.
Slowly, he bent his stiff neck and pressed his lips against her warm temple. “I love you,” he whispered, saying the words for the first time.
Mia’s breaths remained even, her chest rising and falling gently as she continued to sleep.
Grayson knew he should move to one of the wooden chairs across the room, give her space, but that didn’t stop him from stretching out on the bed beside her. He wrapped an arm around her waist and tipped his forehead to rest against her shoulder, the tension in his body finally fading.
Chapter 24
Clare
Nerves fluttered through Clare, knotting her stomach and tightening her lungs. She wore an exquisite gown of deep blue with silver accents sewn on, sparkling like a swirling trail of stars against the night sky. Draping outer sleeves gathered at her elbows and brushed against the full skirt, leaving tight inner sleeves to reach her wrists. Matching blue gloves covered her hands and the bodice of the dress was fitted. Powders and the now-familiar stain once
