Page 169 of The Silent War
“Nothing more important than you,” I said finally, because she needed to hear it out loud. “You know that, Em.”
Her mouth trembled once. She looked like she wanted to argue and couldn’t find the energy to pretend.
I went to my knees in front of her. Slow. No hurry. I hooked my thumbs under the waistband of her panties and eased them down her thighs, careful not to make the world spin.Then I undid the buttons of Bastion shirt on her, one by one—sliding it off her shoulders until it dropped to the floor.
“So fucking beautiful,” I said, reverent, because truth should never need volume.
She let out a breath that was almost a laugh. “You can’t still say that after seeing me so many times.”
My chest tightened. Alexander had taught her to grade herself as if love were a contract to be met. The dynasty had drained her so slowly she thought this—this ache behind her eyes, was what being alive felt like.
I kissed her forehead. Then the bridge of her nose. “Every time,” I told her. “Every time I’ll tell you.”
I dimmed the lights, just enough that the sting left her eyes. The water was ready; I tested it with my wrist, then my palm. Good. Not a degree off.
“Come here,” I said, and slid my arms around her. She melted against me.
I lifted her and stepped into the tub with her, lowering her down with me. I sat with my back against the bath and drew her onto my chest.
“Sorry,” she exhaled. “About last night. About… all of it. I shouldn’t have?—”
“No.” I pressed a kiss to her temple.“You don’t apologize to me for telling the truth. You’re not a burden. You’re ours.”
Her shoulders relaxed against me.
“Do you trust me?” I asked softly. “Do you trustus, baby?”
She nodded, flinching at the movement. Pain flickered across her face and was gone as she tried to bury it.
“Okay.” I kissed the crown of her head, slow. “Then here’s what you’re going to do for me. Forus. Leave it with me for a few hours. We’re going to handle everything we talked about. Every clause, every man, every move. We’ll tell you how andwhen later. But right now I need you to hand me the weight and focus on exactly one thing.”
She stayed very still. “What thing?”
“My hands.”
I reached for her left hand under the water, found her palm, and set my thumb in the center. Slow pressure. Circles. The pattern I use when her mind won’t quiet. It looks like nothing. It’s not.
“Focus on this,” I murmured, working my thumb into the tension until it softened. “Count breaths and follow it. Four in. Six out. Again.”
Her fingers twitched. Then loosened. The tight line of her mouth eased.
“Luca, I should?—”
“No.” I kissed her temple. “You should sit. You should breathe. You should let me touch you and remember that the world gets small when we ask it to.”
I turned the dimmer a bit more until the ceiling glow spread soft.
“We’ll tell you everything when your eyes aren’t aching and your head isn’t pounding. We’ll lay it all out on the table. No tricks.”
“You promise?”
“On my brother’s name. On mine.”
She let herself sink back until her head resting on my shoulder.
Her breathing evened. The frown that had lived between her brows for days smoothed. I shifted my hand to her wrist and then up into her forearm. Little, slow victories.
Through the wall, Bastion turned over in his sleep. I could tell by the way the building’s silence changed. He sleeps like a man holding something he refuses to drop.
