Page 126 of Beneath Scarred Vows
He pulls back just enough to press his forehead against mine. His thumb gently wipes a tear from my cheek, careful to avoid the bruising.
"I thought they'd killed you," I choke out, the fear I'd been suppressing finally spilling over. "When I heard the gunshots, Dimitri, the lights go out…"
"He's alive. Everyone's alive," Ares says. "Except the men who took you. They're all dead now."
There's no remorse in his tone, no hint that he feels anything about the lives he's taken to reach me. And I feel nothing for them either. Not the men who struck me, who threatened me, who planned to hurt me just to punish Ares.
Ares's eyes roam over my face, cataloging every mark, every smear of blood. Fury and tenderness wage war in his expression. He presses his lips to my forehead, my temple, the unbruised part of my cheek, like he's trying to kiss away the hurt.
Then his mouth finds mine, desperate and raw, as if he's trying to make up for every second he wasn't there to protect me.
His kiss isn't gentle. It's not careful. It's life and death and everything between, a confirmation we're back together.
I kiss him back just as desperately, clinging to his shoulders. Pain shoots through my split lip, but I don't care. I need this more than I need the absence of pain.
Blood and tears mix between us, but neither of us pulls away until we're both gasping for breath. When we break apart, Ares brushes the hair out of my face.
"The thought of ever losing you," he says, "It can never happen. I'll always need you. I love you, Katerina."
My hand reaches up and cups his face. Tears of joy stream down my face.
"I love you, too. Ares. Now. Always. Forever," I say softly, looking into his eyes.
We embrace and kiss once more, this time it's as if we're sealing our love, cementing it in place forever.
Ares looks at me for a moment. "Can you stand?" he asks, his voice gentler than I've ever heard it.
I'm not sure, but I nod anyway. He helps me to my feet, but my legs, numb from being bound for hours, buckle beneath me. Before I can even begin to fall, Ares scoops me into his arms, cradling me against his chest.
"I've got you," he says again.
I wrap my arms around his neck, burying my face against his shoulder. The warmth of his skin seeps into mine, chasing away the cold that had settled into my bones during the hours in this cellar.
As he carries me toward the door, I look back one last time at Sebastian's lifeless body, sprawled in his own blood. I feel no satisfaction, no triumph—just a dull acceptance that this is our world. Violence begets violence. Blood demands blood.
Ares kicks open the remains of the door, stepping over debris and bodies as he carries me up from the darkness. I squint against the sudden light—not sunshine, not yet, but brighter than the dim bulb of my prison. The restaurant is in ruins, tables splintered, chairs overturned, bodies strewn across the floor.
Theo appears in the doorway ahead of us, gun still in hand, face smeared with blood and dirt. Relief floods his expression when he sees me alive in Ares's arms.
"Get the doctor," Ares commands, "Now."
Theo nods and is already barking orders into a phone as he leads the way through the chaos outside.
I tighten my arms around Ares's neck, my anchor in this fucked-up storm.
The light grows brighter as we near the exit, and I swear I can smell the sea, can hear waves crashing against the shore somewhere beyond the building.
As we pass through the final doorway, into the light, my arms wrapped tightly around his neck, I can't help but smile.
He came for me.
My husband.
My protector.
EPILOGUE
Ares
