Page 75 of Lore of the Wicked Wood
He brushed his thumb across her knuckles, and she let a single tear escape.
Just one.
Atlas watched it fall, then he whispered, “I suppose she always knew it would be you.”
Twenty-Four
Atlas didn’t know why he was so damn nervous. It was only Everinne, and besides, she’d been the one to announce thatshewas marryinghim,not the other way around. He knew she didn’t love him, and with the exception of their little interlude at the overlook the other night, he was fairly certain she still hated him. Which begged the question, why did she suddenly want to marry him? He didn’t believe for one minute that it had anything to do with that damned Lord Tovian asking for her hand, mostly because if he had proposed and she intended to deny him, nothing would stop her. Everinne had no problem standing up for herself or telling off any male who stood in her way, and if she didn’t want to be carried off on a cloud of stardust, she would tell Lord Tovian she wasn’t interested without hesitation.
So, it had to be something else.
There must be another reason she’d so readily agreed to marry him, and Atlas wondered what kind of secrets she was keeping. He could delve into her mind, listen to her thoughts as though they were his own, but he’d been cautious around her, building the layers of a stone wall between them in an effort to shut her out. To ensure he didn’t eavesdrop on her personalturmoil. Even now, her mind was a muted whirlwind of chaos, her churning emotions and thoughts threatening to destroy the barrier he’d carefully constructed, sending it crumbling into a pile of ash and debris.
When she looked at him, his heart strained.
Tonight, Everinne’s façade of indifference fractured, the vivacity of her aura waned. Her turquoise eyes were still brimming with tears, the rings of gold around the center flaring brightly like captured prisms of sunlight. The brazen cloak of fearlessness she wore had slipped, revealing the death-touched fae who wandered without purpose. Standing before him with her bottom lip quivering, he saw the truth of her nature—a lost soul whose magic left her broken, yet whose fire could not be contained.
She was flames against his skin, burning him with a single look.
Atlas twisted his mother’s ring between his fingers, worried that if he took too much longer, Everinne might change her mind.
When he spoke, he kept his voice soft. “Are you going to break me, Wildheart?”
Everinne blinked, worrying her bottom lip with her teeth. “Break you?”
His chest tightened to the point of pain, and he slid the ring onto her finger. The air hummed, vibrating with energy, and he shoved up from the ground, drawing her close. He linked their fingers together, then wrapped one hand around her waist.
The chill of the night whispered around them, but all Atlas could feel was the heat simmering between them, and the distance he’d forced between them for years slowly evaporated, fading into a distant memory like a mistake.
“Are you going to make me fall so deep into a sea of longing that I forget how to breathe when I’m near you? Until all I wantto do is drown in you?” Atlas watched as her lips parted, as her breath hitched, siphoning away his resolve. “Will you break my heart and destroy my soul?”
Her gaze darkened, shadows slipping into the pools of turquoise that haunted his dreams. She shook her head, tucking her chin down. “My magic…”
“Not your magic, Everinne.” He placed two fingers under her chin, tilting her face up to him. “Willyou?”
“A heart can only be broken if it’s been given out of love.” She squeezed her eyes shut, her brows pinching together in a pain he couldn’t erase.
Atlas cupped her face then, running his thumb gently along the apple of her cheek. “And will you give me yours?”
Her eyes flew open, and it was then he saw the depth of her suffering, the emotions that plagued her. Loneliness. Despair. Regret. “I don’t think I have one anymore.”
“You do.” Atlas had seen her heart. The pulse of it was a song, a series of melancholy chords, music that could only be heard by him. “You have a heart, Everinne. One day, it will belong to me. Until then, I will give you mine.”
“Atlas…” Her bottom lip quivered again, drawing his gaze to her mouth.
“Take my heart, Everinne. All of it.” His hand moved from her cheek to the back of her neck and lowered his head, unable to tear his gaze away from those full lips that seemed to beckon him. “For as long as you need, for as long as you breathe, it’s yours.”
One kiss.
All it would take was one kiss, one meeting of the lips, and then she would know. She would understand the degree of his need for her, because she would know she was his mate. He told himself it didn’t matter, she could either accept or reject the bond, but at least she wouldknow.
He inhaled the tempting scent of her—warm caramel fused with the decadence of rose and blackcurrant—and his pulse thudded loudly in his ears, his blood raced.
Her eyes fluttered closed, waiting for the moment their lips touched.
Everything he ever wanted, everything he tried to avoid, was finally within his reach.
“Get your fucking hands off my sister.”
