Page 90 of Accidentally a Dragon Daddy

“What do you want me to say?” he asked gruffly. “I’ve killed before. You know this. It’s nothing new to me.”

“Don’t,” I said, lifting a finger. “Don’t you be like that with me. If you want this to work, you have to be open with me, Damon. I’ve fallen hard for you, but there’s still plenty of anger about what you did to me inside. That will take some time to fade. Don’t make it any worse by trying to hold back. I need you to be open and transparent with me.”

He grimaced.

“Please,” I said, placing a hand on his upper bicep, feeling the tense, corded strength in the steel-like muscle. “Just tell me how you’re feeling.”

The waters of the deep seas in his eyes were troubled as he listened to what I had to say. It couldn’t be easy for him. Dealing with her death and knowing it was at his own hands would be hard enough. But talking about it was asking him to go to another level.

It had to be done, however, and deep down, I think he could see that.

“She’s dead,” he said. “And I thank whatever force is out there every day that our parents didn’t live to see this day. So that they didn’t have to know what happened. To know I had to choose between their baby and my own baby. To me, that’s no choice at all. But to them? That was their daughter. I …”

The anguish on his face as he stared at me brought tears to my eyes, though the shower swiftly washed those away. It didn’t do anything about the pain in my chest, though.

“I failed them,” he said heavily. “That’s how I feel, Lena. Like I failed my parents in being the big brother to their daughter. It doesn’t help that she started it and there was no talking to her about it. She was lost in her own grief, and that made her do things she shouldn’t have. I know this, but—”

“But it still hurts,” I said, clinging to his side. “It doesn’t help the hurt.”

“No,” he whispered. “No, it doesn’t.”

“I’m here for you. Any time you need it. Any day. To talk. To share. Or just to hold you.”

His jaw clenched tight. “I think I would like that.”

“For me to hold you?”

“Yes,” he said.

I guided him to the tiled floor, wrapping my legs around his waist and my arms around his neck while pulling him into me. He lay across my chest, my big strong dragon-man taking solace in my embrace. I stroked the back of his head, while his chest rose and fell with deep, heavy breaths. The shower continued to pour down over our heads.

“Thank you,” he rumbled, eventually pulling himself back into a proper sitting position next to me.

“For what?” I asked because he didn’t seem like he was talking about me holding him just then.

“Forgiving me.” He shrugged. “I didn’t deserve it. I wanted it badly. So very, very badly. As badly as I want you. But I never felt like I deserved it. I didn’t do anything to earn it. So, thank you for doing it anyway. For coming back to me.”

“You can thank my dad for that,” I said. “He was the one who forced me to look inside and accept what I was feeling for you.”

Damon chuckled.

“What’s so funny?”

“Oh, nothing. Just reminds me of a conversation I had with Vicek, the heir, after you left.”

“About what?”

“That I was an idiot for letting you go. I should have fought harder and told you how I feel, basically.”

I smiled, resting my head on his shoulder. “He sounds like a good guy.”

“Sometimes. This time, he was right about how I feel.”

“And how do you feel?”

He snorted. “You just want to hear me say it, don’t you?”

“Pretty much,” I admitted shamelessly. “It sounds really nice.”

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