Ruthless Creatures (Queens & Monsters, #1)(66)

He waits, tense and unblinking, his gaze drilling into mine.

I whisper, “I’m a ride or die. All in or nothing. It doesn’t matter where we live or how far apart we are. I’m yours. You make your vows in blood, but I make them with my heart. And my heart belongs to you now. I don’t need a picket fence or picnics in the park. I only need what you give me. And it’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever known.”

After a moment, he says roughly, “Which is?”

“Yourself.”

His eyes flutter closed. He swallows and moistens his lips. Then he rolls to his back, flips me on top of him, and exhales hard, staring up at the ceiling as he cradles my head in one hand and hugs me hard against his chest.

We fall asleep like that, hearts beating in time in the darkness, all our problems and the world outside waiting to break us apart held back for a while as we sleep, entangled, dreaming of a place we could be together without hiding.

A place without blood oaths or gunfights or heartache.

A place without secrets or revenge or regret.

A place that doesn’t exist, at least not for us.





26





Nat





When we wake up in the morning, the yard is blanketed with snow.

“White Christmas,” Kage murmurs, standing behind me at the living room window.

I’m wrapped in an afghan. His strong arms are wrapped around me. His chin rests on top of my head. I feel peaceful, safe, warm, and lucky.

No matter how strange our situation, some people never get even this much.

My neighbor on the other side is a woman in her seventies named Barbara who told me last year at her birthday party that she’d never been married because love was a bad risk.

She’s an accountant. Like David did, she has an affinity for things that can be relied on: treasury bonds, statistical tables, the second law of thermodynamics.

I asked him once how someone like him could’ve fallen in love with someone like me—intuitive, emotional, mathematically challenged—and he paused for a moment before saying darkly, “Even Achilles had a weakness.”

That was classic David. Brief and mysterious.

To this day, I’m not exactly sure what he meant.

Kage says, “I have something for you.”

My laugh is throaty. “I think I’ve already had that, sir. Twice last night and again this morning.”

“Not that.”

His voice is serious, so I turn and look up at him. The expression on his face is one I haven’t seen before. The tenderness I’ve seen, but there’s a hesitance, too. Like he’s worried how I’ll react to something.

“What is it?”

“Look and see. It’s in my pocket.”

I glance down at his gray sweats. The only bulge I see is right up in front. “You don’t have to play games to get me to grab that sucker.”

He sighs. “Just put your hand in my left pocket.”

Smiling up at him, I say, “Fine. We’ll do it your way.”

I snake my hand into his pocket, pretending to look for some treasure that obviously isn’t there, or I’d be able to see the outline of it through the fabric.

“A-hunting we shall go…let’s see, here’s a nice piece of lint.” Wrinkling my nose, I flick the link off my fingers and start digging again. “And here’s a very meaty sort of man part. What is that—a hip?”

“Lower,” he says, his voice soft.

Frowning at him, I delve all the way to the bottom of his pocket, until my fingers find something.

Something small, round, and metal.

My pulse thrumming along my nerve endings, I withdraw the object and hold it up. Then I stare at it with wide eyes, parted lips, and a profound sense of shock.

Kage takes the ring from me and slips it onto the third finger of my trembling left hand.

He murmurs, “It’s a Russian love knot. The three interlocking rings signify different aspects of devotion. White gold is soft. It molds to the hand, the way love molds two people together. Yellow gold is hard, the way true love is hard against anything that tries to break it. And rose gold is rare.” He looks deep into my eyes. “Like what we have between us.”

When I burst into tears, he looks mortified. “Oh shit. You hate it.”

I collapse against his chest and pound a fist weakly on his shoulder. I hope it’s his good one, but I’m too emotional to care.

He says gruffly, “I’m sorry. I’ll return it. It’s too soon.”

I speak through sobs. “Will you shut up? I’m happy!”

“Oh.” He pauses, then chuckles. “I’d hate to see you when you’re sad.”

I cry against his chest as he holds me, until I’m calm enough to lift my head and look at him.

When he sees my face, he teases gently, “Who knew such a pretty girl could be such an ugly crier?”

I swipe at my wet face, sniffling. “One more wisecrack, and I’ll kill you where you stand.”

“No, you won’t. You like me.”

“You’re okay. I guess.”

Chuckling again, he pulls me against his chest and tucks my head under his chin. Then he turns serious, exhaling a long, slow breath. He says softly, “It’s a promise ring, baby. My promise to you that I’m yours. But…”