Page 125 of The Heir

However, Isobel continues to panic until she sees my face. As our eyes lock her yelling stops, and she settles back in the bed shaking and gasping.

"You're safe, baby. I'm here." Abandoning all decorum I crawl into the bed with her and maneuver us to where she's laying flush on me."Out,"I stress loudly, casting our family a dark look.

Isobel's mother backs away with a hand to her lips, and Melody, Mason, and our two security guards leave the room almost silently.

"I'm here, sweetheart. I'm right here, and I'm not going anywhere," I say quietly against her temple, holding her tight to my chest. My heart pounds out of control. This is the first time she's been conscious since blacking out at the site where she was held, and I don't know what to expect, but I just know that I need to be prepared for anything.

She clutches against me, pressing her face into my neck and just wails for long minutes against my skin while I hold her as tight as I dare and rock her. When her crying quiets, I remain silent, listening to her hiccuping against my skin. I brush my hands down her hair in soothing strokes, feeling my heart damn near beating out of my chest.

"You're safe. I got you, baby," I say in her ear. Pressing my cheek against her temple I nuzzle her until she calms completely. "I'm here now. You're in my arms, and you're going to be okay."

"I was so scared, King."Her voice is hoarse as she speaks. "I didn't think I was going to make it.I was praying to die."

Her words send chills down my body, making the hair stand on the back of my neck. "I would have followed you. You aren't allowed to leave me." I clear my throat of my nerves. I cried so much during the weeks she was gone I don't know if I'm capable of tears anymore.

"Thank you for killing him." Isobel tilts her head back to look up at me and I take my time staring; seeing bruises, a small cut on her eyebrow, her lips is busted, but her eyes are fiery as ever.

"I didn't kill him."

Her eyes widen. "W-What?" she gasps, beginning to tremble against me. "What do you mean?I sawyou-"

"I got that fucker waiting for you baby.As soon as you get better, we're going to get you your revenge." My head tilts as I look down into her eyes, seeing them narrow. "I kept him alive, to give you what you need."

Her lips tighten and she gives me a quick jerk of her head, bringing a shaky hand up to wipe her tears away.

"I missed you so much," she says, her voice cracking as she lays her head further back on my arm. "All I could think about was how crazy worried you must have been. And our baby." She moves, clutching weakly at her stomach."Hendrix ,is our baby okay?"Her voice is tear filled, as is her face which is pale and grief stricken.

"She's okay." I lean down, pressing my lips softly against hers so I don't agitate her skin. "Notnearas much as I missed you, sweetheart. Not near as much."

"Hendrix," she says against my lips."are we going to be okay?"

I pull back, placing my hand on her cheek and brushing my thumb softly against her skin wiping the tears away. "We're more than okay. We're perfect."

"Do you promise?" Her voice is slight, and cracks with her emotion.

I clear my throat, batting the nerves away, only wanting her to see me as strong. Not weak. "Yes, little demon. I promise."

There's a tense few seconds where her eyes well up with tears again before spilling across my fingers. "I love you," Isobel whispers. "I love you so much, King. So much…so much. All I could think about was you. I was so scared."

My throat swells uncomfortably tight at her admission. Her slight arms loop around my neck as she nestles into me, sobbing once more. I clutch her to me as tight as I dare as my tears break free again at her pain, and all she suffered through to make it. My skin pricks as I heatup, reminding me that though the fires that soldered us together were almost unbearable, it didn't break us.

I clutch at her desperately, tangling my fingers in her hair. Never planning on letting her go ever again.

There in her hospital bed, we cry together until those fires are firmly banked, and there's nothing left but the dusty, stifling ash of the terror we'd both endured. The wind billows it from us like smoke until we are clear of the rancid, and free from its clutches.

And we are brand new.

Chapter thirty-two

Purgatory

Eight Weeks Later

Late at night in the safety of her bedroom, I sit on the edge of the bed with my legs spread and my wife nestled between them. My arms are wrapped around her, my palms splayed on her back, keeping her close to me.

The windows are cracked, blowing a cool breeze and ruffling the sheer cream curtains. The only light we have is the fireplace, and the white beams of moonlight shining down through the windows. But we don't need light to see each other.

"I love you, baby," I say quietly.

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