Page 68 of Cruel Crown

Despite the pain, I smiled, then winced when the muscle in my cheek started to throb.

Gideon leaned closer, his mouth hovering over mine. “How can I ever think of you as weak, when you smile at me while most people would cry?”

He pressed his lips to my mouth softly, whispering something against them that I couldn’t make out.

I closed my eyes again, and then I heard the sound of a blade tearing through the cloth as Gideon ripped my clothes so he could remove them without forcing much movement from me. This time as I let sleep overtake me, I did it knowing that I was safe.

I’d been strong for so long I forgot how it felt to rely on anyone else. I forgot how freeing it felt to let someone carry you, even if it was just for a little while.

Gideon’s lips briefly touched my forehead.

“I got you, Petal.”

For his sake and mine, I hoped he did, and I didn’t regret putting my trust in him.

***

The throbbing in my head woke me up, the pain a reminder that no matter what you did, the pain would always find you.

My chest felt tight, and it seemed like too much energy to move my hands, but I knew Gideon had gotten me wrapped up.

“Come on, love. You need more meds.” His voice rang by my ear, and that anxious feeling I had was gone. He was still here. He was still with me.

“W-water.”

Instantly I felt the rim of a water bottle touch my lips. Gideon’s hand came to my chin as he helped me open my mouth and then slowly poured water.

The water wasn’t cold like I had expected it to be, and I wondered if he had it near the fire to keep a bit warm.

“What time is it?” I asked as I managed to speak and ignore the pain. I still didn’t have it in me to open my eyes.

“About to be five.”

That made sense; I wasn’t one to get much sleep.

“You’ve been out all day.”

My eyes sprang open then. “In the afternoon?”

“There you are,” Gideon breathed in relief.

I tried to move, but he was there, helping me sit up and lean against the headboard.

I opened my mouth to talk more, but he was pouring more water down my throat.

“You could have been this nice in Chicago,” I said after I was done drinking.

He smiled, and my God did I feel something warm spreading over me. His whiskey eyes shone with mischief. I forced myself to bring my hand up, and with my thumb, I caressed the scar on his eye.

“Back then, I wasn’t sure if I wanted to kill you or fuck you.” His eyes were on mine, a shade darker than usual, and if I had to guess, he was thinking about our first time.

“And now?”

He smirked at me. “It’s beyond fucking, Petal, but there are moments when you also make me so bloody mad I want to kill you.” I started to smile, but he kept talking. “What I feel for you, it’s so brutal that it cuts and tears, and it’s softened me where you are concerned.”

I knew that feeling well.

“It’s an awful feeling, isn’t it?”

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