Page 96 of Spearcrest Queen

And then he nods, murmuring softly. “I know.”

That utter bastard. I let out an angry scoff.

“If you hurt me,” I tell him, “I’m going to make you regret ever being born.”

He laughs softly, breath hot against my mouth, and he keeps stroking his thumb steadily along my jaw.

“Sophie.”

I tighten my grip on his collar and glare at him. “Don’t laugh. I mean it, Knight. I would destroy you.”

He lifts a hand, cups my jaw, brushing his thumb along my cheek with unbearable tenderness.

“I know you would,” he murmurs. “And I need you to listen to me, so hear me when I say this—” He tilts my chin up, forcing me to meet his gaze. “I willneverhurt you. No matter what. You could tear me apart piece by piece, you could cut me down to nothing, and I’dstillprotect you. I’d still make sure no one ever laid so much as a fucking finger on you.”

His forehead presses to mine, his breath warm, steady.

“You’re mine, don’t you get it? That doesn’t mean I can hurt you if I want. It means that no one gets to hurt you ever again.”

I swallow hard. Despite the mad flutter of emotions in my chest, I still glare at him to the last.

“You’re confident about that?” I ask him severely.

His lips curve slowly.

“Beyond a shadow of a doubt.”

I catch my breath. My cheeks are burning, my throat is tight. Evan’s body is so close, his mouth inches from mine. My throat tightens. Is it really that easy? Letting go, jumping off the cliff—trusting that he’ll be there to catch me?

Is it as easy as just saying oneword?

“Do we have to do this?” I whisper. “Ihateit.”

“I know you do,” he whispers back. “But once it’s done, you’re going to feel so fucking good, Sophie. You’ll see.” He catches his breath, tugs at my bottom lip with his thumb. “C’mon. It’s just one word. Nothing could be easier.” A whisper—adare: “Say it.”

The moment is balanced in time. I’m a raindrop dangling off the tip of a leaf; the trembling of a gentle breeze shakes me loose. It comes out in a fragile breath, a tiny declaration.

“Yes.”

His mouth curls into a grin. “You’re sure?”

“Fuck you,” I tell him, and a tear falls down my cheek, surprising me. “Yes.”

I pull on his collar, crush his mouth to mine. He kisses me in a giddy, hungry rush, like he’s just as desperate, just as undone, just as completely and utterly mine, his mouth hot enough to melt my bones, hot enough to dissipate my fears like blown ashes. I laugh into his mouth, breathless, reckless, because it feels so fuckinggoodto give in, to have him and to be his, to stop fighting—finally.

“Yes,” I say again, gasping between kisses. “Evan.Yes.”

“Yes.” He sighs. “And?”

I pull away, our lips parting wetly.

His eyes rest on mine, searching, waiting. The words are stuck at first, tangled up in years of pride, of hurt, of self-preservation. But Evan waits, patiently, serenely, terrifyinglycertain.

The words tumble out from my lips like the magic of a breaking curse.

“And Imissedyou.”

His pupils dilate, his chest rises on a caught breath. But now that I’ve said it, now that the curse is broken, it feels like I couldn’t possibly stop.

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