51. Clara
CLARA
SPELLS
The pain in Maverick’s voice cuts through me deeper than any physical injury I’m carrying. I can feel the guilt radiating off him, the way his entire body has gone rigid against mine. He’s spiraling, drowning in self-blame, and I can’t let him do this to himself.
Not when he’s the reason I’m alive.
“Maverick, no.” I shift carefully, schooling my expression despite the pain in my ribs. My hands frame his face, and I tilt his head gently until I’m staring into those tortured espresso eyes. “You didn’t fail me. You saved me.”
He tries to shake his head, but I hold him firmly. I won't let him drown in his guilt the same way he wouldn't let me drown in mine. “My love. Listen to me?—”
“Sunshine, if I had been there?—”
“If you had been there, we might both be dead,” I say fiercely, surprising myself with the strength in my voice.
“You literally just told me that it wasn’t my fault that Tamara got hurt.
You just told me he was never going to stop.
You think he would have walked away if you’d answered that door?
He would have killed you to get to me, Mav. You know that.”
His jaw clenches, and I can see him fighting against my words, against the absolution I’m trying to give him.
“You found me,” I breathe, my thumbs brushing across his cheekbones. “ Again . And when I was in that cellar, when I thought… when I thought I was going to die, I held onto you. The thought of you. My love for you. And you came. Because you always come for me, Maverick.”
Tears flow down his cheeks now, and it breaks my heart to see this strong, fierce man—my protector—crumbling beneath the weight of misplaced guilt.
“I should have protected you better,” he says, his voice raw.
“You did protect me, my love. You healed me. Made me whole again. You made me stronger.” I press my forehead against his. “I’m here, Maverick. I’m alive. I’m in your arms. That’s not failure—that’s everything.”
Maverick doesn’t respond. He doesn’t deny anything I’ve said, though he doesn’t agree, either.
Instead, he captures my lips with his in a tender kiss—one that speaks to me more than his words ever could.
I part my lips for him, flicking my tongue against his.
His mouth moves slowly, lovingly, before he pulls away and rests his forehead against mine.
“I love you so much, sunshine.” A soft kiss to my lips. “So fucking much.”
“I love you, too.” I inhale deeply, breathing in the scent of him—letting it fill me and center me. Sliding my leg between his, I nestle closer, tangling our limbs together. “Hold me. Don’t let me go,” I whisper.
His arms band tighter around me. “Never. I’ll never let you go.”
And despite the nightmare the last twenty-four hours have turned into, I fall asleep knowing two things are true: Maverick will never let me go. And I’m finally, truly safe .