Chapter 16

Cecilia

"Because he stole from yours." Arthur's voice was raw.

"Because if he did more than that—if he hurt Robert—then he deserves whatever consequences come. And because—"

His hands tightened on my wrists. "—I already chose you, Ceci. Four years too late, but I chose you. And I'm not changing my mind."

The tears I'd been holding back spilled over. "I hate this. I hate that I believe you. I hate that I want to believe you."

"Then hate me." He pulled me closer, until I could feel his heartbeat against my chest. "Hate me all you want. Just don't leave again. Please, God, don't leave."

Arthur had retreated to his room half an hour ago, giving me space to "rest." As if rest were possible when my entire world had just tilted on its axis.

I lay on top of the covers, fully clothed, staring at the ceiling. My mind replayed the files on an endless loop. My father's handwriting. William's threats. The cold bureaucratic language of the patent office ruling.

I pressed the heels of my hands against my eyes, trying to stop the spiral. Trying to breathe. Trying not to imagine my father's last moments—the brake failure, the terror, the impact—

A soft knock on the connecting door made me freeze.

"Ceci?"

Arthur's voice.

"Are you awake?"

I didn't answer.

The door handle turned. "I guess you can't fall asleep."

Despite everything, a laugh caught in my throat. "That's creepy."

He stepped into my room, still wearing his bloodstained shirt. Neither of us had bothered to change. "You're spiraling. And I—"

He stopped a few feet from the bed. "I can't sleep knowing you're in here alone, tearing yourself apart."

"So what, you're going to tuck me in?" The sarcasm felt brittle.

"If you'll let me." He didn't move closer. Just stood there, exhausted and bloody and looking at me like I was something precious he was terrified of breaking. "I'm not asking for anything, Ceci. I just—can I stay? Please?"

I should have said no. Should have maintained boundaries and dignity and all the smart, self-protective things I'd learned over 4 years of surviving without him.

Instead, I shifted over on the bed and pulled back the covers.

Arthur crossed the room like I might change my mind. The mattress dipped under his weight. The room suddenly felt smaller, the air heavier.

"I keep seeing it," I whispered into the darkness. "My father, alone in his car. Knowing something was wrong. Being terrified and having no one to call because your father's lawyers had backed him into a corner and—"

"I know." His thumb traced circles on the back of my hand. "I know. And I'll burn it all anyway if that's what it takes. Just—" He closed his eyes. "Just let me mourn it. For tonight. Tomorrow we'll go to the estate and start the war."

I understood. This fragile peace between us was about to shatter the moment we confronted William. Once we started down that road, there'd be no going back.

I shifted closer, until my forehead rested against his chest. His arms came around me immediately, pulling me tight against him. I could feel his heart hammering, could smell sweat and blood.

"I'm still mad at you," I whispered against his shirt.

"I know."

"And I don't completely forgive you."

"I know."

"But I'm glad you're here."

His breath hitched. "Yeah?"

"Yeah." I tilted my head back to look at him. "Because I'm fucking terrified, Arthur. And I—" The words stuck in my throat. Too vulnerable. Too much.

But his hand cupped my face, thumb brushing away tears I hadn't realized were falling. "Me too. I'm terrified too."

"Of what?"

"That you'll never look at me the same way once you know everything. That even if we take down my father, you'll always see his blood in me. That I'll—" His voice cracked. "—that I'll lose you again. For real this time."

I should have let him suffer with that fear. Should have kept him at arm's length. But God, I was so tired of being strong. So tired of being alone.

I kissed him.

Not the desperate, angry kiss from the docks. This was softer. Asking instead of demanding. Offering comfort instead of passion.

Arthur made a sound low in his throat and kissed me back with devastating gentleness. His hand slid into my hair, cradling my skull like I was made of glass. The kiss deepened slowly, a conversation we couldn't have with words.

I'm here. I'm staying. We'll face this together.

When we broke apart, I was shaking. Arthur's forehead pressed against mine, both of us breathing hard.

"Ceci—"

"Don't." I pressed a finger to his lips. "Don't ask me what this means or where we're going or if I forgive you. I don't have answers yet. I just—" I swallowed. "I need you to hold me. Can you do that?"

"Yeah." His arms tightened around me. "Yeah, I can do that."

I burrowed into his chest, letting his warmth seep into my bones. His hand stroked my hair in steady, soothing motions. Gradually, impossibly, the tension in my body began to ease.

"Arthur?"

"Hmm?"

"Tomorrow, when we go to your father—" I paused, gathering courage. "No matter what we find, I need you to promise you won't try to protect me from the truth. Even if it's ugly. Especially if it's ugly."

His hand stilled in my hair. "Okay."

"And if he—" I couldn't finish.

"If he killed your father," Arthur said quietly, "I'll help you make sure he pays. Whatever that takes."

I nodded against his chest. Believed him. Because he'd already proven he'd choose me over everything else. Even family. Even empire.

"Get some sleep," he murmured. "We've got four hours before we need to face the world."

"Will you stay?"

"Try to make me leave."

I closed my eyes and let myself drift, wrapped in the arms of the man I'd loved and hated and couldn't seem to stop needing. Tomorrow we'd start a war. Tonight, I just wanted to not be alone.