19. Blood of Two Worlds #7
"And you know what Surion is capable of," Malec continued, his voice hardening, "And if I'm not there to stop him?—"
"So this is still about control," Allora said, her voice shaking with fury. "You're just using fear instead of force this time."
"I'm using truth." His hands flexed, the only sign of the strain beneath his controlled exterior. "I can't let you walk into that. I won't."
"You don't get to decide!"
"Then who does?" His voice cracked slightly, the first real break in his composure. "You? You can barely stand. You just gave birth, you're bleeding and weak and—" He stopped, swallowing hard. "And you almost died. Both of you almost died, and it would have been my fault."
The words hung in the air between them.
“I see the truth of it now,” he said, his voice scraped raw with a grief he could barely contain.
“I pushed you so far that escape felt worth any cost. You wagered everything for a breath of freedom.
Your own heartbeat. His. And I will never—" His throat worked, eyes glossy from held back tears that wanted to fall. "I will never forgive myself for that."
Allora’s eyes burned. Not with anger this time. With tears.
"But I'm asking you to give me the chance to earn your forgiveness anyway," Malec continued.
"Stay. Not because I'm ordering you but because I'm asking.
" His voice dropped lower, strained. "Because the thought of watching you walk away again, of knowing you're out there unprotected while every pursuer in this kingdom circles you—I can't survive it, Allora. I won't."
"You're manipulating me," she whispered, but her voice cracked.
"Perhaps..." He didn't look away. "...but it does not negate the fact that what I say is a reality and that reality is that you need me as much as I need you. Maybe more."
"I hate you," she said, but the words broke halfway through.
"I know."
And that was when she shattered.
The exhaustion, the pain, the constant terror, the weight of everything that had happened crashed over her all at once. A sob tore from her throat, raw and broken. Her hands flew to her face as tears streamed hot and fast down her cheeks.
Malec moved without thinking. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her against his chest, careful of her wounds, mindful of her pain. She fought him for half a second, her fists weakly beating against his shoulders, but then the fight left her and she collapsed into him.
He held her while she cried openly, finally able to let go of the emotions that she bottled up for months. While every ounce of strength she'd been clinging to dissolved into tears and trembling.
"Shhh," he murmured into her hair, his voice soft, soothing, unrecognizable from the commanding tone he'd used moments before. "I have you. I won't let anything happen to you. Never again."
She sobbed harder, her fingers curling into his tunic.
"It will be different this time," he whispered, his lips brushing her temple.
"I swear it. You'll have freedom, choices.
I won't cage you the way I did before and you can see Kalemon whenever you want, she can move in with us if that’s what it takes.
Surian adores you. Luko—" He paused. "Luko will forgive me eventually. "
A broken laugh escaped her between sobs.
"You'll have our son," Malec continued, his voice low and reverent as he carefully rubbed circles on her neck trying to calm the tension building in her body. "And I'll prove to you that I can be the spouse you deserve. The father he deserves."
Allora's sobs began to break, her breathing still ragged but slowing.
"Just give me the chance," he murmured. "That's all I'm asking."
She didn't answer. Instead she just quietly cried, her tears soaking into his shirt, her body shaking against his. And Malec held her, his mind already racing ahead, already calculating.
Legal marriage. It was the only way. The only protection strong enough to keep Surion's claws off her, to give him the legal right to shield her from the vultures who would descend the moment word spread.
No Canariae and Awyan had ever been recognized as legally married.
The council would resist. They'd cite tradition, law, the fact that such unions were considered impossible.
But he'd force their hand. He'd ride to the capitol himself, drag every council member from their beds if necessary, and make them sign the papers that would bind her to him legally, irrevocably.
It would have consequences. Political fallout, enemies made. Laws challenged.
But she would be irrevocably his and not a single damn Awyan could challenge that.
And that was all that mattered.
He pressed a kiss to the top of her head, breathing in the scent of her hair, feeling the warmth of her body against his as his body relaxed, the soultether sated now that it had its other half back and she was in his arms.
“I will not surrender you to any hand that reaches for you,” he breathed, his voice low and fervent against her skin. “Let emperors scheme and divinities descend from their thrones. They will find me standing between you and whatever dares to claim you.”
And he meant every word.