Page 78 of Stolen
Then another.
I can’t keep my distance. I don’t want to.
I don’t even know what I’ll say. I only know I have to say something.
Anything.
My voice is low and rough, like gravel underfoot.
“I’ve made many mistakes, Jules.”
She flinches almost imperceptibly at that.
But I see it.
I feel it.
“I’ve lied. I’ve manipulated. I’ve used my power to create illusions. And yes, I brought you here with an agenda that served only me. A claim that I told myself was just strategy. Just politics.”
I exhale, forcing myself to hold her gaze.
“But it’s not that anymore. And I can’t stomach pretending otherwise.”
Her eyes shimmer in the firelight, wide and uncertain. I want to fall to my knees and kiss that doubt from her brow.
“You have questions,Myrrin? Then ask,” I beg her.
“Don’t let anyone else tell you what I am,” I continue, my voice vibrating with magic and emotion. “Or what I feel. You want the truth?”
She nods once, her lips parting slightly.
I take another step, the space between us dwindling to nothing.
“Why me?” she whispers, tears spilling onto her soft cheeks, and I can’t bear it.
“It could only ever be you,” I whisper, kissing those tears away.
Her breath hitches.
Her heart pounding, echoing like a war drum in my head.
“I need you, Jules. I crave you. Your voice. Your fire. Your maddening, beautiful spirit that refuses to bow, even when you should. I wanted power. I wanted the crown. And then I met you.”
My hands are on her neck and throat, cradling, caressing.
I tilt her head, so her beautiful, amber-colored eyes are looking at me.
I swallow hard.
The words catch.
“And now? Now I want things I should never want. Things no Lord of Nightfall dares to dream. And none of them have a damn thing to do with a throne.”
She doesn’t speak.
Doesn’t blink.
Just breathes. A shallow, silent, shaking breath.
