Page 138 of Tempest

“I will always protect you,” he says. “No question. You and my sister are the only people keeping bits of my heart red and beating.”

“Tempest.”

“I understand what you’re saying. Protecting you also means not hurting you, ever. Anymore.”

“I meant what I said—I can’t forgive Mila, but I can understand why you did it. I wish I hadn’t seen what I did, that I could rewind—”

He cups my cheek. “It’s not your fault.”

I still in his hand, closing my eyes, enjoying the feel of his fingers whispering against my temple. “See? A gentle touch is all it takes sometimes.”

Tempest makes a sound in his throat, sounding vaguely threatening. My eyes spring open.

As soon as I meet his blacked-out stare, his pupils overtaking his irises, my middle starts tingling in anticipation.

“I’ll grant your wish, princess. These men can live. Now grant mine.”

“Which is?”

“Upstairs.” Tempest lowers his voice ominously. “Now.”

He lifts me by the backs of my knees and sprints out of the basement while I wrap my hands around his neck, squealing.

And without a backward look at my captors.

Or my past.

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