Chapter 44
Sage
W hen I returned to our room, I closed the door behind me and backed against it, taking a moment to admire the God of Death.
He cut a striking figure as he stood, barefoot by the window, his tall, masculine frame bathed in silver moonlight.
The sleeves of his tunic were rolled up, displaying his muscular, tattooed forearms full of prominent veins.
He had a drink in one hand, the other placed casually in his pocket.
Face fixed forward, he teased, “Did you get the children settled in?”
“I did,” I answered, making my way over to him.
I leaned against the window frame, my gaze drifting outside.
Above the steep rooftops, a canvas of black framed a bright, glowing moon. Down below, the flickering glow of lanterns lit the brick-paved streets—streets that were void of the hustle and bustle of everyday life that had existed earlier .
The world was quiet, and it was finally just . . . us.
There was so much we needed to talk about, but most importantly—
“I’m sorry, Von,” I started, my voice soft, sincere. I faced him. “For everything that happened with Aurelius. I was confused, and I didn’t know who to trust, or what to believe. I let my anger and my hurt guide my choices and I acted on impulse. In the end, I betrayed you. I betrayed us .”
“Your apology is unnecessary,” he replied, attention shifting to his drink.
“You didn’t just make those choices on your own.
Your entire world had been turned upside down.
You were recovering memories from our twisted past, discovering .
. . how horrible I truly was to you back then.
Add on that you were being drugged by Aurelius’s ichor and persuaded by his narcissistic charm.
His heart beating within your chest certainly did not help things either. ”
“Yes, all of those factors played a part, but I refuse to let them be a crutch. I want to own up to what I did.” My eyebrows drew together, cinching the space between them. “I’m sorry for betraying you, Von. Will you forgive me?”
He looked up at the starry night sky and let out a rough sigh, painted with raw, deep emotion.
“The moment I held your lifeless body in my arms for the second time in my life, it brought me clarity. I knew then that everything else was inconsequential.” He glanced at me, and my heart nearly stopped.
“I have already forgiven you, Little Goddess.”
I stood there in awe, unsure what I did to deserve him or his boundless love.
I looked down at the floor, smiling despite myself. I hadn’t realized how much I needed to hear those words from him. I hadn’t realized how much guilt I had been carrying around with me. But now, I did.
Did his forgiveness erase what I had done? No.
But it meant we could start anew, that we could move on.
“There’s something I’ve been wanting to ask you about.” He placed his cup on the windowsill, then turned toward me. “Why were your hands shaking earlier?”
My stomach sank. This was one conversation I really didn’t want to have tonight.
In truth, I didn’t have the slightest idea how to tell Von.
After it happened, I had made a solemn vow to myself that no matter what, I wouldn’t tell a soul about that day.
Because if I told someone, that would make it real .
And although some part of me knew that it was, another part was quite fine with pretending it had never happened—I didn’t want it to be what defined me.
“Sage . . .” he pushed gently, closing the small distance between us.
I opened my mouth to speak, but the words withered on my tongue.
Adept, long fingers slid under my jaw, gently tipping my face up to his. His endlessly black eyes captured mine. “I might not be able to feel your emotions anymore, but I know when something is deeply affecting you. Whatever it is, you can tell me.”
I swallowed, my throat suddenly parched. “What if it breaks me to tell you?” I whispered, my insecurities dampening the strength of my voice.
His hand shifted, caressing my cheek. I couldn’t help but lean into his touch. “I do not think keeping it in is good for you either,” he said. “I know your hands as well as my own, and I know it takes a great deal to make them tremble as they were.”
I took a breath. Then, another. “What if you look at me differently?”
“How could I ever look at you differently? Have my actions not shown as much?”
“What if you think I’m weak? What if—”
“What if ,” he cut in, “you told me and gave me that chance to prove all your what ifs away? What if I love you regardless?”
My eyes shifted between his.
I realized that a small part of me wanted to tell him.
I just . . . I didn’t want tonight to be about Aurelius.
I wanted it to be about us. If I knew anything about my mate, he was strong and steady, yes, but he was going to need time to process when I told him what Aurelius did to me.
As was I. And that was a path I did not want us to walk down tonight.
I took a breath and vowed to him, “I promise to tell you. Just . . . not tonight. I want tonight to belong to us and only us. Please give me that.”
His eyes studied mine, a soft interrogation. Finally, he said, “Alright, Little Goddess, have it your way. I will not press any further tonight.”
“Thank you.” My words held weight, driven forth by the rapid strumming of my heart—Creator above, how much I loved him.
His willingness to bend, to honor my wants, and take care of my needs were attributes I never knew I needed in a partner.
But now that Von had shown me what that was like, I realized how Aurelius had starved me of it.
Von, in so many ways, was an answer I didn’t know I needed.
Through him, I’d learned I was worthy of love .
That I was enough, just as I was.
All because he was . . . good to me. Kind to me .
Loving and understanding.
Safe .
Everything a partner should be . Everything Aurelius wasn’t .
I looked up at the handsome male standing before me—completely mesmerized by him and all he stood for. If I were to tell the outside world what the God of Death was truly like, when it was just me and him, I doubted anyone would believe me.
On the outside, he was a fearsome, dark immortal who commanded reapers and was the keeper of the dead. Von was the type of male who, when he stepped into a room, others cowered from because they didn’t want any trouble.
Ah, but underneath . . . underneath, he was a teddy bear.
Von’s thumb brushed over my curved lips, tracing them. “And to what do I owe the honor of this sweet gift?”
“My smile?”
“Mhm,” he purred, eyes fixed on my mouth .
“I was just thinking how thankful I am for you.” I slid my hands up his torso, feeling the hardness of his muscles beneath his tunic.
Resting them against his chest, I leaned into him.
As if the walls were listening to us, I spoke in a hushed voice.
“And that you don’t have to worry. Your secret is safe with me. ”
“What secret is that, love?” Moonlight caressed the side of his face while the other remained darkened by shadow. In that moment, I could see the two sides of him—good and bad, and both were breathtakingly beautiful.
“That . . . Death might look like a big, scary Doberman, but underneath his towering, muscular, tattooed exterior, he’s a golden retriever.”
Like a spark bursting into flame, something wicked lit his dark eyes.
“The only thing I have in common with that breed is that I retrieve what is mine .” Slowly, his fingers drifted down my neck, sweeping possessively across my sensitive skin.
“You belong to me. Your wants. Your needs. Everything about you. From your silky white hair to your decadent lips, to your soft, supple breasts, to your sweet, sweet sex, and all the way down to those darling little toes of yours. You are mine, love, and I am yours.”
His words left me breathless and filled with fever.
He grinned, knowing the control he had over me.
Pulling his hand from my neck, he returned it to his glass, lifting it from the windowsill and bringing it to his smirking mouth.
His commanding gaze remained locked on me as he drank.
Lowering it, he said, “Now, there’s something else we need to discuss, which I must admit isn’t very .
. . golden retriever of me, but I am a god of my word. ”
“What?” I asked, my curiosity piqued—my body aching for more of his touch.
“I made two promises to you. Do you remember what they were?”
“Two promises?” I asked, my brow furrowing as I raked through my thoughts.
Then . . .
I’m going to ink these by hand , his phantom growled softly in my ear. I could feel the heat of his large hand on my breast. My nipples budded in desperation as I recalled what he had said next as he had pinched the one. And as for these? I’ll pierce them with my silver.
My lips parted, a small gasp escaping me. Heat crept up my neck, flushing across my cheeks. “I remember.”
“Ah. I’m glad you do,” he said, infinite black eyes meeting mine. His voice lowered, striking a deep, primal chord. “I fully intend to keep those promises to you, although I am willing to alter some parts if you wish.”
A shiver strolled through me, arcing up my spine then back down into my core.
“Do you like the thought of wearing my ink? My silver?” he asked, his words a sensual purr.
I snatched the glass from his hand and took a deep pull from it. With a bit of liquid courage in my system, I admitted, “I find the idea intriguing. Arousing, even.”
He smirked, running his wicked teeth over his bottom lip, tugging it back slowly. One black brow raised in question, his eyes smoldering. “Do you want to know what kind of tattoo I plan to give you?”
“Yes,” I answered, my throat suddenly parched. I took another sip.
Thick, black lashes lowered as his gaze slowly drifted down, taking every inch of me in. “Take off your tunic, and I’ll show you.”
“In front of the window?” I asked, eyes flicking toward it.
“Does it excite you?”
“Yes.” I had no idea what had gotten into me.
His fingers played with the fabric at the bottom of my tunic. “Then take it off.”
“Who are you, and what have you done with the territorial male I know?” I set the glass down on the windowsill.
He gave a dusky laugh, the sound of it a dark, sensual melody—one I longed to hear over and over again. “Letting other people see as I touch you is a way of me staking my claim .”
Fire licked at my skin, burrowing beneath it, into my veins.
Creator above, this male.
He watched as I removed my tunic, pulling it over my head. My hair fell against my skin, pooling down my back, over my breasts. I dropped the cloth onto the floor, beside my feet. I decided to take it one step further, unbuttoning my pants.
Von quirked a curious-but-not-sad-about-it brow.
Grinning up at him, I said, “So you can get a full view of your canvas.”
“Ah, so very thoughtful,” he answered, giving me an approving nod.
I took off my shoes and wiggled my way out of my pants then removed my underwear and dropped them on top of my tunic. Moonlight shone against the swell of my breasts, resting against the flat of my stomach, highlighting the curvature of my hips.
I could feel Von’s heated gaze as it swept over my naked flesh, eliciting a shivering response out of me.
“Exquisite,” he praised, coming closer to me.
Notes of sandalwood and amber washed over me, making me feel weak in the knees as he leaned in, gathered my hair, and swept it behind my shoulders.
He took a step back and crossed his arms over his chest, rubbing his jaw in thought.
A sinfully handsome artist debating what part of me to start painting first.
While he studied me, I took him in— all nearly seven feet of him. Inch by incredible inch. Von was a masterpiece, forged from the rawest, purest form of masculinity. He was a safe harbor, a place where my femininity could dock, unload, and thrive.
Reaching over to the windowsill with his long arm, he dipped two fingers into the cup, wetting them. I sucked in my breath when his fingertips touched my skin, the middle of my sternum, beneath my breasts.
“I’d start right here with a rose.” He began to draw it out, his fingers shifting as he drew the petals.
When they became dry, he dipped his fingers into the glass again and returned them to my skin.
“And here”—he followed the curvature of my breasts—“I would take my time, drawing slender, intricate vines.” He mimicked the same motion underneath my other breast. “From them, small chains would dangle.” He wet his fingers again then worked up from the rose.
“Leaves would curl between your breasts, reaching up toward a crescent-shaped moon. I might even hide a little skull in there somewhere, just so I can stamp my symbol on you.” He smirked at the thought, and it was a wicked, devastating thing.
I had once hated the idea of belonging to him, but now I wanted nothing more. I wanted him. All of him. I wanted the bond and the connection that came with it. I wanted to wear his inky markings, his colors, his silver. I wanted to be his wife. His queen. And the mother of his children.
More than anything, I wanted us .
Gaze lifting to mine, he asked, “What do you think?”
“It sounds beautiful.” I bit my bottom lip then released it. “Can you do it now?”
A dark, handsome grin appeared on his lips. “Only if you are willing to make a deal with me.”
“What do you have in mind?”
His black lashes lowered, shadowing his gaze as it swept over me, taking all of me in before they rose back up to mine. “That tonight, you become my wife.”