Page 104 of Mine to Ruin

“My revenge won’t end when I overthrow your son. Are you sure you won’t regret your help?”

“No. He interfered in something he shouldn’t have, and he hurt you.”

I rub my temples. “Physically he can’t anymore, old man.”

“And still your wound might have healed, but the scars never will.” The truth of his words reverberates through my battered core.

“How did we end up falling in love with two women from the same family?”

“I guess we needed saving, and they offered their love so graciously.”

“Why didn’t you fight back? For her?” Because fuck if I wouldn’t destroy the entire world for Ellia.

“I did. It’s one thing for a man to break a woman’s heart, but another to be responsible for her losing a child. She never forgave me.”

“I am sorry.”

“Be happy.”

I am.

I end the call, and when I lift my eyes, my angel appears, wrapped in one of my shirts, the soft skin of her shoulders glistening in the moonlight, her bare feet padding to me. Her ethereal beauty brings me to my knees.

“I woke up, and you weren’t there.”

I stand up, place my glass on the black table, and follow her back to bed. I would follow her anywhere. I won’t become like my grandfather, a ghost of a man. I’ll fight, maim, destroy, and kill whoever dares come for my woman. There will be no one else at her side but me.

Chapter 34

Ellia

He carries me into the bedroom, and then my back hits the mattress. He crawls up my body, taking my mouth in a searing kiss.

“You’re mine for life. And if there’s something afterwards, I will find you and claim you as mine, again and again.”

I place my head on his chest, and the steady heartbeats are my personal lullaby. I fall asleep, asking myself if he’ll ever tell me what happened to him and what has him on constant alert.

In the morning, I follow the sound of the constant thud of fists punching a bag toward the home gym. I lean against the doorframe to watch for a few moments, and Kian swings from one leg to the other, every muscle in his body chorded. A punch followed by a kick, and for ten rounds he assaults the box bag. He wipes the beads of sweat from his forehead, his glistening hair touching the back of his neck, and he tucks the strands of hair sticking to his face. His face darts in my direction, and I wet my lips.

“Come here,” he says, and I do. “We’re slacking on our training.”

I glide my finger over every ridge of hard muscles of his eight pack. “You got what you wanted.”

“I did, so it’s time to show you my gratitude.”

I roll my eyes at him, and he chuckles. I punch him in the chest, and he stares at my hand.

“When you strike, you strike. Don’t rub my chest.” He lifts his arms and his chest muscles move, and I burst into laughter.

“Okay, peacock. I am ready for the mating.”

He throws his head back and laughs, the deep belly sounds are as fascinating as the man himself. He wraps my hands, and for the next hour I am face-to-face with another side of him. The drill sergeant.

“Stand up.”

“Block my attack.”

“Eyes on me.”

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