Page 7 of Savage Prince

I also want to tell him that I love him again.

I want to confess that he’s become my favorite person and that I don’t want to imagine a future without him in it. I want to apologize for pushing him away and promise that things will be different if he can just make it to the top of the cliffs with me.

But he’s out of fuel and we don’t have time for pretty words.

He’s dying, I can feel it in every brush of his lips against mine.

Tears creep from behind my closed eyes only to evaporate on my rapidly heating skin. Even now, at the worst of times, when I’m physically exhausted and wrung out with fear, he still makes me burn.

Hopefully he still feels the same, and I have one last card to play to keep my friend alive.

“Just make it up the ladder,” I murmur against his lips. “One last obstacle, one last push. Make it to the top and as soon as you’re strong enough, I’ll do every filthy thing you’ve ever imagined me doing to you.” I skim my hands up his ribs and back down to rest on his hips. “Twice.”

His mouth curves against mine. “Are you trying to bribe me with sex?”

“Is it working?”

He brushes my damp hair from my forehead as he pulls back to catch my gaze. “There’s a time when it would have.”

I grit out through a clenched jaw, “But not now? Why?”

“Because I want more than your body,” he whispers. “I want to make plans and a home and a life with you, Growly. Maybe even some rug rats someday. I want the dream.”

Tears spill down my cheeks again as I snap, “Fine.”

His brows lift, but even that movement is slower, more labored-looking than usual and it scares the shit out of me. If he can’t lift his eyebrows, how in the hell is he going to make it up that last ladder. “Fine?” he echoes.

“Fine,” I repeat, louder this time. “Make it up the ladder and I’ll marry you.” I aim a finger at his bare chest. “But I’m not promising babies. I’m not sure I want kids at all, and I certainly don’t want them in a world so chaotic and violent I can barely keep myself alive, let alone a bunch of tiny people.”

“We wouldn’t have to have a bunch,” he says, smoothing his hand over my hair again and then again. “We could just have one. One really high-maintenance, intense, feisty little girl, maybe…”

I duck away from his hand. “Don’t pet me.”

“But I like petting you. And I’m dying. I should get special liberties.”

Ignoring the way my heart lurches in my throat at the thought of never hearing one of his stupid jokes again, I snap, “I’m serious, Ford. I will marry you. No push back, no excuses, no double-cross.” I take a beat, letting my eyes burn into his as I promise, “I will give you exactly what you want. I will ride into Zion on the back of your motorcycle like a good little Alpha’s bride. All you have to do is get your ass up that ladder without fucking around and wasting more time and energy.”

Sadness creeps into his gaze, but he’s still smiling as he says, “You really want to keep me around, huh? It’s real.” I pull in a breath, about to unleash a proper, get-your-shit-together-and-focus-on-the-task-at-hand shout fest on his ass, when he puts a finger to my lips. “Hush, Growly. I don’t want your pity promises. When you agree to marry me, it’s going to be because you can’t think of anything that will make you happier than being my forever girl, not for any other reason.”

“Aw.” Layla sniffs behind me, making me flinch.

I’d almost forgotten she was there.

“That’s perfect,” she continues. “I was hoping you’d say that.”

I clear my throat, but my voice still sounds way too raw as I shoot back, “Just remember the chances of that actually happening go way up if you stay alive.”

“I’m going to try. Try like hell,” he says, glancing back at the ladder before turning back to me. “But if I don’t make it, stay focused on the long game. Get through the trials, get the support you need, and get what’s yours. And when you have Hammer locked in chains begging for his miserable, piece of shit life, kick him in the nuts a few times for me.”

“I’m going to do way worse than kick him in the nuts,” I promise, threading my fingers through his good ones. “We both will.” Drawing my shoulders back and willing strength and steadiness into my bones, I give his hand one last squeeze before releasing him and stepping back against the side of the cliff. “You go first this time, Layla. I’ll cover him from behind and be ready to give him an extra boost at the top.”

“Are you sure?” she asks. “I think I’ve still got you beat on upper body strength, J. Might be better to have me on boosting duty.”

“I’m sure,” I tell her.

She’s probably right, but I can’t turn my back on Ford right now. Something primal inside of me demands I keep my eyes locked on him until I know he’s safe. It also insists that I’ll fight harder for him than Layla will. She’s a good person—probably even a great one—but she doesn’t love him like I do.

He isn’t her fated mate, he’s mine. And as I watch him inch out onto the ladder, his wounded arm hanging limp at his side and sweat instantly breaking out on his face, I vow to avenge him.

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