Page 48 of 10 Days to Surrender

You lost the right to touch me when you lied.

She’s right. But that doesn’t stop me from wanting to try again. To explain. To make her understand that everything I did—every lie, every manipulation—was to keep her safe.

The rain whips harder, and I see her stumble once more. Before I can stop myself, the words tear free:

“Marry me.”

Ariel freezes mid-step, her back going rigid. The storm howls around us, but all I can hear is my own pulse thundering in my ears.

“Marry me,” I say again.

Ariel whirls, eyes volcanic. “Are youinsane?” Lightning cracks the sky. I reach for her elbow; she jerks free. “I don’t need your fucking proposals, Sasha. I need?—”

“What?” I bare my teeth. “Penance? Blood? Say it and it’s yours, Ariel.”

A gust nearly knocks her sideways. She scrambles for balance. “I need you to stop lying! To stop pretending this is about anything but your own ego!”

“Then take the deal!” My roar startles birds from the trees. “Let me keep you safe, provide for the children?—”

“I don’t want your kind of safety!” Her scream shreds the downpour.

Thunder groans. Her sandal slips. I grab her waist before the mud claims her.

“Don’t touch me,” she hisses.

But I can’t release her. Not when her pulse races under my palm. Not when the pink flush from the springs still paints her collarbones so prettily.

“You don’t get to force me into exile, then waltz back in like some savior.” She shoves hard enough to stagger us both. “You don’t get to play house now that the world’s on fire.”

“No one is playing anything. This isn’t a game.” I snap her against me, noses nearly touching. “Every hour we waste fighting, Dragan’s sniffing closer.”

Her lips part—God, those lips—but I don’t kiss her again. Can’t.

“So marry me, Ariel,” I rasp again. Begging.Pathetic.“Let me fix this.”

“You can’t fixyou.” Her breath hitches. Raindrops cling to her lashes like diamonds. “You’re still that scared boy choking on his father’s lies. You think a ring changes that?”

I don’t answer. She wrenches free.

“Watch your step,” I snarl at her retreating back.

“Or what? You’ll ship me off for fifteen years, too? You’ll tell Jas I’m dead? You’ll?—”

It happens in fragments.

Her foot hits a slick patch of stone. Her ankle rolls. A gasp tears from her throat as her arms windmill outward.

My body moves before the scream even leaves her lips. Mud sucks at my boots as I lunge, arm outstretched. Stupid.Stupid.It all hurts so fucking bad. My ribs scream like rusted hinges, muscles tearing where bullets tried to carve me open months ago.

I swear I catch her. For one tortured second, her scent floods me—peaches and panic. Then momentum betrays us both. What started as an attempt to save her turns into me knocking her further off-balance. White fireworks explode behind my eyes as catch becomes shove. She goes down hard and slams into the mud with a wetcrunch.

“Ariel!”

The sound she makes when she hits the ground will haunt me forever. A sharp cry of pain that cuts through the rain and goes straight to my core.

She curls into herself immediately, both hands clutching her stomach. Rain sheets down her pallid face. Her sundress rides up, streaked with filth and something dark. Blood? Mud? I can’t tell. My vision tunnels. Every scar on my body burns.

“No, no, no…” The words spill from me like a prayer as I drop to my knees beside her. Mud soaks through my pants, but I barely notice. All I can see is her face contorted in pain, the way her fingers dig into the swell of our children. “Ariel, look at me. Where does it hurt?”

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