Dearly Despised (Calluvia's Royalty 5)

“You—I can’t believe you!” Dalatteya shoved him away and sprang to her feet. “You let him brainwash me? You despicable scumbag—”

Emyr stood up too, having the nerve to look exasperated. “Darling, calm down—”

She smacked him across his stupidly handsome face, hating him, loathing him utterly, and then attempted to smack him again, but he yanked her close, pulling her flush against him.

“I did it to protect you,” he snarled. “You were too self-confident, too careless, Latteya. You were always going to get caught, sooner or later, and I knew we’d need a contingency plan for that. The deal I made with Idhron is the reason we escaped Calluvia so easily and the reason we have brand new identities so we can live without constantly looking over our shoulders.” He held her gaze. “When Idhron found me, I could have left with him. I didn’t. I stayed there for you.”

She huffed, but most of her anger left. “And what, am I supposed to believe Idhron will keep his end of the deal out of the goodness of his heart? If he knows our new identities, he will have us arrested at a moment’s notice!”

“He won’t,” Emyr said, stroking her back. His eyes became colder, harder. “He knows that if he betrays us, I will expose the High Hronthar for what it is. I gave Uriel the proof and where to go with it in case we’re arrested or killed.”

She stared at him. She had been so angry when Emyr had told her in no uncertain terms that her loyal bodyguard couldn’t stay with them. She had thought it was just a power play, to show that now he was the one making the decisions. She’d never entertained the thought that Uriel’s leaving was truly necessary.

“All right,” she said, her shoulders sagging. “But you’re still a bastard, and I still despise you.”

“Mhm,” Emyr said, pressing their foreheads together and smiling his insufferably attractive smile. “And I still love you dearly, my darling.”

She scoffed, but it was half-hearted. She knew he loved her, loved her more than anything, in his own twisted, unhealthy way. Had he not loved her, he never would have forgiven her for what she’d done. And had she not loved him back, she would never have forgiven him, either.

Perhaps their love was toxic, unhealthy, and messed-up, but it was theirs. And she could never give it up. She was done living in denial. She couldn’t live without him. She had tried. She had. For all of four days before creating him a new body.

She hated this feeling, hated the strength of it, but without it, she was nothing. She both hoped Samir didn’t love Emyr’s son as intensely as she loved Emyr and pitied him if he didn’t. If Samir didn’t know such love, he’d never feel the utter emptiness she felt when Emyr had died, but he also wouldn’t know the soul-wrenching perfection of being in the arms of the man she loved.

“Let’s go inside,” she whispered, kissing Emyr desperately, her heart clenching at the memory of his dead, mutilated body. She ran her hands over his wide, strong back. He was alive. He was here. He would never leave her alone and hollow again. Even if he died, she would revive him again and again, until the end of time, until the universe was nothing but a void.

“Same,” Emyr said hoarsely, reading her thoughts through their bond. He embraced her so tightly it bordered on painful. “Until the end of time.”

The End