He hesitated again as if he was afraid, something that mystified her. She'd seen him stand toe-to-toe with the baddest asses the League and Caronese government could throw at him.
Never had he flinched or faltered.
But tonight, something was bothering him in a way his enemies never had.
"When you see me, I want you to remember not to judge me by my looks."
How could he be afraid of something so incredibly trivial? "I told you that I only judge people by their hearts." And he had the most beautiful one she'd ever known.
"But I'm not just anyone, Zarya."
"I know. You're the man I love."
He cupped her face in the palms of his hands... hands that held roughened calluses--testament, along with the scars all over his body, to how hard a life he'd lived. Her Kere was anything but a spoiled rich aristo who lived off the backs of people like her and her family and those she tried to protect from the aptly named Cruels who preyed on them all.
Though he rarely spoke of his life outside of his role in her beloved Resistance and the Sentella, she felt the road map of tragedies all over him. His past had been one marred by untold brutality and battles. All she wanted was to soothe and comfort him the way he comforted her.
"I don't ever want you to forget that, Z. Promise me?"
"Of course." She laid her hand over his damaged cheek. She knew he was extremely self-conscious about the scar that bisected the left half of his face, and the ones on the rest of his body. When they'd first started sleeping together, he'd kept his hair over his face and had pulled back from her touch anytime she went near that particular scar.
Then one night, when he'd been so exhausted that he'd fallen asleep on her, she had brushed his hair back from his face and found what bothered him most. That scar was so deep, she could feel where the wound had left a deep groove in the bone underneath it. So deep that she wondered if he might not be blind in his left eye from whatever had caused that injury.
No, he couldn't be. His aim was too perfect in battle. If he only had sight in one eye, his depth perception would be off and he'd be at a serious disadvantage. Still, there was no denying the savage ferocity of the injury that had caused a scar like that.
Her heart aching for the pain it must have caused him, she'd pressed her lips to the scar he'd always hidden from her. That kiss had awakened him instantly.
He'd turned his face and pulled away. "Don't. I'm disgusting."
"You're not disgusting." She'd felt his pain in the darkness and it had broken her heart. "We all have scars, Kere. Inside and out. Wounds that go so deep, they leave a permanent mark on us. But that doesn't make them ugly or revolting. They were hard lessons learned and for better or worse, they changed us. No matter how hard you try to hide them, they will always be there. And I think your scars are beautiful because they are what have made you the man I care about."
After that, he'd allowed her complete access to his body. But only under the protection of full darkness.
He still wouldn't let her see any part of him in the light.
Could he, who stood fearless before the scariest of enemies, be afraid of her rejecting him for his looks?
Was that even possible?
"Your features don't matter to me, Kere. I'd love you even if you had three heads and a split nose."
"You say that because you don't know who and what I really am."
"And again, it doesn't matter. I will stand by you forever. How could you doubt me?"
He laughed bitterly. "Almost everyone you've ever loved has died on you. Almost everyone I've ever loved has put me in harm's way. Not one of them ever failed to throw me to the wolves to protect their own ass. Whenever it was a choice between them and me, I was the one who paid for it. Once I show you my face, Z, I can't go back. You will have the power to completely destroy me and everyone I hold dear. All of our lives will be in your hands."
She stared at what she hoped was his eyes so that he could see her heart. "I would never hurt you."
"You're the only one I've ever trusted this much with my real thoughts and beliefs. You know me better than any creature alive."
"And I am forever yours. You can trust me, Kere. I swear I will never betray you. Not ever."
"I believe you," he whispered in her ear before he captured her lips again. Then he slid himself deep inside her.
Zarya groaned at how good he felt there. She cradled him with her body as he thrust himself slow and easy against her hips. "I love you, Kere," she breathed.
"I love you, too. I always will."
She smiled and tightened her hold on him. It was the first time he'd ever said that back to her. In the past, he'd always remained silent or said that he was glad that she did.
But tonight...
There was no longer any doubt whatsoever that she was more to him than an easy lay whenever he was horny. For the first time in their two-year relationship, he finally confirmed that he loved her and that he intended to stay.
Running her hands over his scarred back, she delighted in the way his muscles played against her palms as he pleasured her. If she could, she'd stay right here, like this, forever.
She lifted her hips, bringing him even deeper inside until her entire body was rife with ecstasy. "Tell me again that you love me," she breathed.
"I love you, Zarya. And I have never said that to another woman."
Most of all, he never said anything he didn't mean.
Her heart singing, she threw her head back and screamed as she came again. Still he kept that steady, deep pace until she was completely sated and begging him for mercy. Only then did he join her in that one perfect moment of intense pleasure. She held him close against her entire body as he shook in her arms. Unlike her, he was always quiet whenever they made love. He would suck his breath in sharply from time to time whenever she did something unexpected, but overall, he seldom made any sound whatsoever.
Yet another strange quirk of his. One that made her wonder if he, like many assassins she knew, was keeping his guard up in expectation of an ambush. Did he, even now, fear she'd stab him in the dark?
I hope you know me better than that.
His breathing ragged, he lowered himself to cover her and to nibble her neck and ear. "What time do you have to be up in the morning?"
"Nine, why?"
He brushed his whiskers against her breast, tickling her in a way that should be illegal. "Good. I have plenty of time to play with you and still let you get a good night's sleep."
She smiled at those words and at the fact that by his hunger, she knew he didn't cheat with other women. Whenever they were together, he was a powerhouse of testosterone--like he stored it all up just waiting for a chance to be alone with her.
And as the night went by, he made good on his promise.
Hours later, Zarya tried to stay awake, knowing that he'd be gone whenever she woke up. But all too soon her exhaustion overcame her and she drifted off while lying on top of an eight-pack of rock-hard abs.
Something loud buzzed, rudely pulling her out of her happy dreams. Groaning, Zarya rolled over and slapped at her alarm. Gah, she hated that thing.
"Ow!" she groused as something caught in her hair and pulled out several strands.
She opened her eyes to see the huge griata stone in her engagement ring.
Holy gods...
The thing was worth a fortune.
She'd known Kere was loaded. As one of the five Sentella leaders, he made a killing, pardon the pun, by taking out military targets.
But this...
Whoa. It caught the light and glittered in a spectrum of rainbow colors. There were two blood-red smaller stones on each side that only made the rich, dark color more intense.
A classic-style Caronese engagement ring, the stones stood for the past, the present, and the future. The red for passion and the center stone for fidelity.
His promise to her. She couldn't wait to call her sister and tell her what had happened. Sorch
e wouldn't believe it. As far back as Zarya could remember, they'd spent countless hours talking about what kind of man they'd fall in love with. Who they dreamed of marrying one day.
Never had she imagined hers would be the most lethal outlaw in the universe.
One whose face she'd never seen...
Her gaze fell to the notecard he'd left on her nightstand by her clock. How very old-fashioned and sweet, and it was so vintage Kere that it made her smile. But even more endearing, on top of the note was one perfect white rose and a small round electronic something she'd never seen before. Curious, she pulled the note and black circle device toward her.
Leaving your bed was the hardest thing I've ever done. But in four days, I will be back for you. Look for the man dressed in black, wearing your mother's ring around his neck.
You know me, Zarya, better than any person ever has. My greatest prayer is that my face doesn't offend you so much that you forget your promise to me. I could never bear to be rejected by the only woman who has ever held my heart.
Four days of absence, then a lifetime of happiness. I promise you, you will never regret loving me.
Eternally yours,
K
P.S. I designed the tricom just for you and you alone. If anyone fires a blaster at you, either in kill or stun mode, it'll deflect the shot and then emit a pulse that will render them and anyone near them, paralyzed. For a few hours, they'll be conscious, but won't be able to do more than blink.
Don't take it off. It'll protect you in my absence.
The hair on the back of her neck rose as deja vu tortured her. Her eyes filling with tears, she touched his flowing script. The last time a man had left her a note like this, it'd been her father.
Soon, we'll be free of Caron. Then you'll never have to fear again. Two days, my precious and I'll return. Have your sister packed and ready.
Her father had died on his way back for them.
She winced in pain as a bitter lump tightened her stomach. Please, please don't let history repeat itself.
2
"Are you out of your mind? I would slap sense into you, but you'd most likely punch me back and that would... really hurt. 'Cause the gods know, you pack one nasty left hook that you always lead with. Might even kill me. At the very least, it would wrinkle, and stain my clothes with blood, which is worse than death, if you ask me. Still, are you out of your mind?"
Darling sighed at Maris's angry tirade as they stood in the governor's office of the Winter Palace--the main political seat Darling's family had used to rule their empire for the least two hundred years. This room was one of the few electronic dead spots of the palace where they couldn't be overheard or monitored in any way.
Richly appointed and decorated with dark blues, golds, and maroons, the study was intended to overwhelm and impress visitors with the ostentatious wealth of the Cruel family--to make others feel inferior and small in comparison.
It worked on all but the stoutest egos.
His uncle also used this room to plot the deaths and downfalls of his enemies, as well as his own allies and friends.
And it was in this very room, where there was no surveillance whatsoever, that Darling's uncle had murdered his own brother...
Darling's father.
Something Darling couldn't prove so he didn't dare breathe a word of it to anyone, not even Maris. But he knew the truth from his uncle's own lips. It'd come out as a drunken boast one night eleven years ago when his uncle had been particularly brutal with him after he'd escaped and run away from the mental institution his uncle had confined him in. The royal guards had found him in hiding and brought him back to this very room--beating him almost every step of the journey home.
His face stinging from his uncle's fists, Darling had shoved Arturo away from him. "You're not my father, you worthless bastard. And you're not a governor in full right, Lord Grand Counsel." He'd sneered the title he knew his uncle despised as it reminded Arturo of his lesser rank and position. "You'll never be one. But I will be governor one day, and I don't have to listen to you."
His uncle had slammed his head into the desk that stood on their right and used his hair to pin him to it before he'd leaned over Darling to snarl in Darling's ear with his drunken breath. "You better wise up, you little smart-mouthed faggot. I own you and I can make your life, and your family's lives, utter hell. If you don't do what I say, when I say it, I'll kill you just like I did your spineless father. You should have seen the shock on the pathetic bastard's face when I cut his throat."
It was a night his uncle didn't remember.
A night Darling couldn't forget.
And since the moment of that slip, Darling had been plotting his uncle's downfall in this very room where the walls bled from past treacheries.
Unfortunately, it'd taken a lot longer to put an overthrow into place than he'd wanted. But then it wasn't easy to topple a government, especially when the handful of people you loved would be executed along with you should you fail.
Dragging his thoughts away from the past, Darling met Maris's irritated gaze--Maris would be the first to die if he screwed this up. And that was something he could neither allow nor contemplate. Honestly, he could barely remember a time in his life when Maris hadn't been a major part of it.
Though they were only a few weeks apart in age, Maris looked a lot younger. He'd recently cut his black hair short and wore it in spiked waves that went in all directions. For once, Maris was dressed conservatively in a light green jacket and tan pants. Something that was a stark contrast to Darling's normal jet-black attire.
But then they were ever opposites in most things. While Maris had pale skin, Darling's was deep olive. Maris had dark eyes. His were light blue. And only Darling's sister shared his dark red hair.
Maris was lean with smooth, unblemished skin, and Darling was ripped with more scars than any aristo he knew, and that included the Andarion prince, Nykyrian Quiakides, who was a former League assassin and a close friend of Darling's.
But their most polar opposite trait was their personalities. Maris lived out loud with a flamboyant, carefree style that tended to offend a lot of people. Meanwhile Darling was quiet, understated, and reserved. A demeanor of necessity he'd developed not long after his father had died. If he wasn't noticed, he wasn't attacked.
As often, anyway.
He much preferred flying below the radar while Maris preferred flying in the face of anyone who annoyed him.
And even though he knew better, Darling was still an eternal optimist who tried to see only the best in people, and who hoped everything would get better. Meanwhile, Maris only anticipated treachery from every person he met, and expected things to worsen, no matter how good they were.
Darling was the sole living being Maris trusted. Not that Darling blamed him, given his past. Trust didn't come easy to Darling either, but he tried not to let his experience with assholes defeat his innate belief that people were good at heart.
All except his uncle.
That bastard had been born chromosomally damaged.
For the whole of his life, Darling had fought to protect, and run interference for others. Whether it was his mother, his siblings, or Maris...
He'd bled for all of them.
But never happily, and not always without complaint. While he didn't mind it so much for Maris and his siblings, he resented the hell out of his mother's inability to put his life and well-being above her own selfish needs.
She couldn't even look at him anymore. Whether it was from disgust that he wasn't her willing slave or from her own guilt over sacrificing him, he didn't know. They rarely spoke to each other, and he couldn't remember the last time she'd wished him well.
That was all right. He'd long ago accepted the fact that for all intents and purposes, he was an orphan.
Now, after all these years of battling for them, he finally wanted something for himself. And no one, not even Maris, was going to talk him out of this.
He had to have Za
rya. She was the only one who could save him from the madness that was quickly pulling him under. He knew it with every part of himself. Without her, Kere would consume him, and he didn't want to be the same cold-blooded, unfeeling monster his uncle and mother were.
I'd rather be dead.
Zarya was the only good thing he had, and he intended to hold on to her with both hands. Consequences be damned.
Darling met Maris's gaze, wanting his friend's blessing for what he was about to do. "If anyone should understand this, it's you, Mari."
Maris scoffed. "Yes, but I fall in love every five minutes and within twenty I've moved on to the next. You cannot marry a woman. You know that. Just imagine the scandal that'll cause."
"Mari--"
"Don't Mari me... in more ways than one. Do you remember what you said when I was about to walk down the aisle and make the biggest mistake of my life?"
"Your pants were too tight?"
Maris rolled his eyes. "After that."
"That you were sweating so badly you needed another shower or else you'd drown your bride?"
Maris actually growled at him this time. "I'm being serious, Darling. Damn it! Stop being impossible."
Darling's eyes widened at the unexpected profanity. "Wow... Damn it. Really? I didn't know you knew how to cuss. I'm impressed."
"What can I say?" He crossed his arms in irritation. "You've ruined me. And--"
"I hear everything you're saying." Darling cut him off before he repeated the same argument he'd been making for the last thirty minutes. "I do. But my uncle has already tried to kill me. You were there. Remember?" Not wanting to completely alienate his best friend, he tempered the sarcasm. "In eighteen months, I'll be old enough to legally dethrone him and there's nothing he can do to stop it. He knows that, and it's now open season on my ass. If I don't do something fast, you'll be visiting me in the family vault, beside my father." Darling swallowed as that pain washed over him. He'd give anything to have his father back.
But that desire changed nothing. His father was dead and he didn't really want to join him there.
Not today, anyway.
"We both know Arturo's not about to go blithely into retirement. Not while I have a younger brother who can inherit the throne after me. He kills me and then he moves his guardianship to Drakari for the next six years. Or worse, the bastard locks me up in another institution and has both me and Drake permanently declared insane so that he can rule in our names without being contested."