Page 96 of Vengeful Union

I hang up the phone and when I turn around, I almost bump chests with Rory. He looks down at me with intense blue eyes.

“Who were you talking to?”

I swallow hard.

“My brother. Let’s go back to our room.” I keep my voice low so no one can hear us.

Rory nods solemnly and takes my hand, holding it as we go up the stairs and back to the bedroom.

“Why did you sneak out?” He tilts his head. He doesn’t exactly seem angry, just confused.

He’s lounging on the bed, and I climb up next to him, letting out a long breath.

“I wanted to help you. Wanted to find out something, prove or disprove this theory that Bree has.”

“And did you?”

I look at him, biting my lip.

Would it be kinder not to tell him? Would it be better? I think about it for a split second, looking into his worried eyes.

I’d want to know the truth. If it was my father, I’d want to know.

“He practically confessed to Bree. Said that he punished your mother like he punished all traitors.”

Rory’s eyes widen, but only slightly. He’s not shocked. He’s resigned.

He looks down at his hands, and I get closer to him, nudging his shoulder with my own and intertwining our fingers.

“Rory.” His name comes out in a whisper, and the words come out of me before I know it. “Rory, I have to tell you something.”

“There’s something else?” He turns his head to look at me, his brows furrowed, tears in his eyes.

I take a sharp breath, my heart galloping in my chest.

I can’t stop the words from coming out, can’t stop the ache in my heart, the push–tell him, tell him, tell him.

“I love you.” I’ve never said those words to a romantic partner, only to my father, to my siblings. I’ve never felt this way about anyone, not ever, and the fact that he might not want me and that he has the blood of my father’s enemy rushing through his veins doesn’t matter.

Because it’s true. Because I love him with all of me, and right now, at his lowest, I want him to know he matters. He is someone’s world. I hope even if he doesn’t feel the same way, it gives him some comfort.

“Don’t say that,” Rory rasps, his eyes searching my face, tears spilling down his cheeks. “Don’t fucking say that if you don’t mean it, honey.”

I shake my head, sitting up on my knees, pleading with him. “It's true. I’m in love with you, Rory, and I can’t hold it in anymore. I know you might not care, that?—”

He cuts me off by crushing his lips to mine, flipping me over on the bed.

I make a squeak of surprise, and he laughs into my mouth, but it’s almost a sob.

He mumbles against my mouth, and I don’t quite hear him. I don’t quite dare to hope.

“What did you say?” I cup his face with my hands, pulling his mouth from mine before I get lost in his kiss, in the way his body covers mine.

“I love you too, honey. I’ve been in love with you since the moment I saw you, looking up at me with those wide green eyes.”

Tears spring to my eyes, now, blurring my vision. “You mean it? You really love me?”

“More than my own life, Lara Murphy. I want you to be my wife. For real. Forever.”

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