Destroyed Destiny (Crowne Point 4)

“It’s her—the Cinderella!” Flash.

“Story Hale,” someone corrected. Flash.

I pulled back just enough to pull out the locket she’d given me.

“My wife,” I growled. “She’s my wife.”

She ran her touch all over me, my head, my neck, settling atop my shoulders.

She angled her lips to mine.

I could feel the urge to kiss, it sung in my blood as well.

I snapped the locket into place, holding my palm over the gold. The cold metal sandwiched between her beating heart and my palm.

My heart. Because it always belonged to her.

“Your shoulders look strong, Atlas,” she whispered, fingers curling into the fabric above my shoulders.

I lifted my eyes, finding her stony hazel ones.

With my free hand, I gripped the back of her neck, pulling her forehead to mine. “I thought you fucking died.”

“I came back,” she said, husky against my lips. “I promised you I always would.”

Her lips teased mine, begging me to kiss her.

If I kissed her now, I wouldn’t stop.

I’d fuck her on the grass while the world watched. And I wanted to. I wanted to slide inside her and pound until the feeling holding my chest hostage dissipated—the one that reminded me every minute how close I came to never holding her again.

But I needed to know something.

“Where is she?” I growled against her lips. “Where is my daughter?”

STORY

“Gemma!” Gray bellowed, throat rough and ragged with the yell, after I’d told him where Sonnet was—with his sister.

Anyone still gathered on the lawn froze, turning to stare at Grayson. I didn’t blame them, the way he’d yelled demanded anyone in a nearby radius to stop.

“She’s inside,” I said. “Hiding her in her wing.”

Without further word, Grayson dragged me inside. His grip bruising my wrist; he pulled me down the halls, yelling Gemma’s name like an invocation.

Gemma ran out of her wing, eyes wide. “What?” Her eyes bounced between me and Grayson. “Did it work? I… I’ve been watching from my window but I have the worst view—”

“Where is my daughter?” Grayson growled.

Gemma looked to me. “Is it over?”

“Where is my fucking daughter?” Grayson snarled.

“All right, okay, I see how it is.” She threw up a hand. “Watch the baby, Gemma. Save my life, Gemma.” She walked back into her room, muttering.

A moment later, she came back with a sleepy-looking Sonnet.

Gray completely froze. He gave so much away in his first look at our child. I wished I could forever commit it to memory.