Page 162 of Dark Little Game
His hand finds its way to my hair, and he strokes it gently.
“There have beenso many timesI thought I couldn’t keep going.”
I pull in a breath. “What did you do?”
“I kept going out of spite.”
The fireplace pops, and I rest against Hunter’s warmth, the enormity of the past few months floating around me.
It feels like the whole world we knew went up in flames.
But now, in the ashes, I see something new.
Something so hopeful.
Out of spite, Hunter told me.
Maybe that’s how it always goes. The new green grass, sprouting from the ashes after an inferno.
Seeds deep under the soil, planted long ago, using the ash to grow.
He’s right.
After everything, we have to keep going.
Out of spite.
Out of sheer determination, because nothing is going to force us to give up.
I pull in a breath of his clean, warmly spiced scent, suddenly feeling that glimmer of new beginnings, of hope.
“Hunter,” I say softly, reaching down to hold one of his hands in mine.
My heart beats in my chest.
Steady, but quickening.
“What’s up, king?” he says.
“I love you.”
I feel him exhale. Feel his hand tighten against mine.
It’s simple, and it’s the exact truth.Honesty over everything. He doesn’t have to respond, and I know there’s a world where he won’t.
But instead he grips my hand harder, pulling me tight.
“Damn it, Rayne,” he says in a whisper near my ear.
“You don’t have to say it back, Hunter?—”
“I love you,” he says, urgently, like it’s something that’s been weighing on his soul for longer than this moment. “I love you so much it hurts. And when I saw you like that, tied up, by someone else’s hand?—”
He clutches me close, like he’s afraid to let go.
So I don’t let go.
I stay close with him there on our little corner of the big sofa, holding him. Pouring every ounce of love I have into one embrace.
