Page 123 of The Darkest Oath

He let out a soft, bitter chuckle. “Scars from my first life never left.”

“Were they painful?”

“Yes,” he whispered. “But it was so long ago, I don’t remember as vividly.”

“Was your life at risk?”

“Yes, but . . .” His voice trailed off, and a flicker of understanding flashed in his eyes.

Élise lifted her gaze, meeting his. She had spent years aching for him, and living with the emptiness of not trying was unacceptable.

“I’m willing to bear unseen scars as we learn how to be husband and wife,” she whispered.

He stepped back as though physically recoiling from her words. “But I’m not.”

“You think this curse is punishment, Rollant, but what if it’s a test? A test of how much we’re willing to fight for each other.”

His lips thinned as he shook his head.

“I don’t care if it hurts,” she said. “I don’t care if it leaves marks. I want you. Whatever that looks like. Whatever it costs. It’s worth it to me. Please don’t shut me out.”

Their life struggles together would not break them but strengthen them. Rollant’s curse would be something they faced together rather than a barrier between them.

It was as if her words pierced him, straight into the part of him that still dared to hope. He swallowed hard, but tears pricked his eyes. “You deserve better than this, Élise.” His voice was hoarse and pleading. “I cannot keep control of myself, and you end up?—”

Rollant’s jaw tightened, his hands flexing at his sides as though resisting the urge to reach for her. His shoulders sagged, and he looked away as if afraid his gaze alone might hurt her.

Élise stepped away from him, watching his body quiver with longing and fear. She stooped and hesitated before pulling a box from under the bed. Her fingers trembled slightly as she unboxed the last week’s worth of labor. She ran the twine through her fingers, tracing each knot she had woven by hand. It was a simple thing—humble, rough, imperfect. Her heart pounded in her chest at the ridiculous insinuation behind it. He could laugh at her or hate it.

A flush crept up her neck. She met his gaze, feeling the longing in his eyes. She had to try, at least. Her hands unfurled the twine as she presented it to him. “I made this for you,” she whispered.

“A rope?” Rollant’s eyes searched hers.

Élise’s gaze dropped. “Yes,” she said, lowering it and unable to say anything more. Shame rose on her cheeks.

But Rollant’s hands were warm against her skin as he cradled her neck, and she could feel the faint tremor of his fingers, the lingering notes of his desire and restraint.

She stepped closer to him, the twine between their chests. “If we could . . . “ Her voice trailed off as they searched each other souls.

His thumb grazed the edge of her jaw, a touch so light it ached before his hands slid down to the rope between them. He ran his fingers over the fibers, their fingers brushing. “If I fail you?” he asked.

“Then I will lose breath, and you will let go, and then I will recover like before.”

As he let her loop the twine over his shoulders, she realized it was a mirror of them—fragile in places, strong in others, something woven together with care. Her fingers trailed the strong curve of his arms, traveling to his wrists. She pulled it gently, testing its hold.

Rollant’s lips curved into a faint smile, but his eyes softened with something far more tender.

For a moment, the world narrowed to just the two of them. The need to close the distance, to taste his kiss, burned through her like fire.

But his breath hitched. “I keep seeing you collapsed on the floor,” he confessed with a voice thick with pain. “I hear how your breath stuttered and the look of fear in your eyes.”

Her breath mingled with his, stirring the space between them. She traced her fingers along his forearm, feeling the quiet tension beneath his skin—the restraint, the wanting. The firelight flickered, throwing shadows across his face and deepening the fearful expression in his eyes.

“Trust me,” she whispered, her voice steady. “We’ll figure it out together.”

She leaned to kiss him, but he remained still.

“What’s wrong?” she asked. Her brow furrowed at his stillness. She opened her mouth to ask him again what was the matter, but he leaned forward, biting her lip in a sensual kiss. She cradled his face in her hands and pressed her body close to his until she felt a tear crash into her fingers.

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