Page 63 of Traitor

He stops dead.

Looks at me.Reallylooks at me.

And I see it then. Four years of grief. Four years of regret. Four years of hell, etched into every sharp line of his face.

"Please," he murmurs. "Just hear me out."

A shiver rolls down my spine.Déjà vu.

I tilt my head, eyes narrowing. "I seem to remember making the same plea once."

Bones flinches. Actually flinches.

"I fucked up, Ely," he says, voice wrecked. "I know I did. I've been dying inside for the last four years. Please talk to me. I can't let you go, you're my fucking soulmate. I know I'm selfish. I know I hurt you. But I'm coming for you anyway, baby. I'll tear through any wall, walk through fire, anything you need to just give me a second chance."

My chest constricts, but I force myself to stay cold, stay still. Stay fucking untouchable.

I tip my chin up. "Kneel."

His brows furrow. "What?"

"You heard me." I lift my gun slightly. "Beg. If you want anything from me, my forgiveness, my time, my mercy, then get on your fucking knees. Make it convincing. Or there's the door."

I motion toward it with my gun, watching as something flickers in his eyes. A storm, a war, the last thread of his pride snapping under the weight of what he lost.

For the first time in his life, Bones doesn't look like the ruthless, savage king of the Iron Vultures.

He looks desperate. Just for a moment.

I wait.

And he kneels. Proud, unflinching, unwavering.

He doesn't kneel like a man defeated, doesn't bow like he's breaking. His broad shoulders, carved from stone, don't slump. His head doesn't lower in shame. He kneels like a man giving his soul willingly, placing it at my feet, letting me decide if I'll stomp it into the ground. And fuck, I want to. The thought makes me giddy.

"I only ever kneel for you, baby," his voice is rough, wrecked, but steady. "And I only ever beg for you."

The gun in my hand doesn't waver, but something inside me does. The part of me that remembers the good before the ruin. Before the branding, the betrayal, the fucking exile. I stomp on that feeling and kill it with every bit of rage I have.

"You want to hear me say it?" he rasps. "I am so fucking sorry. I was wrong, Ely. I was so fucking wrong. I tore my own goddamn heart out when I broke yours. And when my head was clear again, I knew I would spend every minute, every hour, every day trying to find you." He drags in a ragged breath, his chest rising and falling, but his gaze never leaves mine. Not for a second.

"I can't move on. I can't forget you. I can't do it even if I try. But I would never want to try. No matter if it's four years, forty years, or four hundred years, I will always come for you. Because I will always love you. You're it for me. You were then, and you still are now."

My heart rips open.

I clench my jaw, anger swelling like a storm. Why now? Why the fuck couldn't he have said this when it mattered? When I was screaming his name, pleading for him to see me, to believe me.

I rise from the bed and step closer to him, the barrel of my gun barely an inch from his chest. He looks up at me like he's worshipping a goddess. "What the fuck are you thinking, Bones? After all these years? After everything? You really think you can just waltz in here and say all this shit like it changes a goddamn thing?" My voice shakes with rage. With something darker. Something bitter and vicious.

He doesn't flinch. Doesn't cower.

"I don't think it changes the past, Ely." His voice is soft but firm, steady like the man I fell in love with, the same man who fucking broke me. "I just know it doesn't change how I feel about you."

A sharp laugh bursts from my lips, my grip tightening on the gun. My hands are shaking. Fuck.

"Why?" I whisper, seething, spitting fire. "Why couldn't you be like this when it mattered? Why couldn't you show your love that night? Why now, on your knees, on my fucking bedroom floor?"

He swallows hard, his throat working. "Because I was a coward. Because I let fear, pride, and duty blind me. I've paid for it every goddamn day since."

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