The Brightest Night (Origin #3) - Jennifer L. Armentrout Page 0,82

all of this? All the crazy, all the unknown, and all the terrible things that have gone down? That it was still too damn good to be true, because we knew each other. We had each other,” he continued in a whisper, breaking my heart in ways I didn’t even know were possible. “We were finally together.”

Emotion welled in my chest. The back of my eyes burned as he pulled my heart all over the place, twisting it into mushy knots.

“But even if you wake up and you don’t know who you are and you don’t know who I am, it’ll be okay. I’ll be here, and I’ll help you remember.” His lips brushed my forehead. “I’ve got enough love for you that I’m overflowing with it. It’ll be more than enough if you wake up and see me as a stranger.” Luc’s next breath sounded as ragged as my heart felt. “No matter how you come back to me, as Evie or as Nadia or someone else, I’ll still love you like I do now, like I did yesterday and the day before, and that’ll be enough.”

I’ll still love you.

Even though there wasn’t a single doubt in my mind that Luc loved me, the shock of hearing him say it was like touching a live wire. His actions from the first time I’d met him as Evie screamed those words even if he’d never spoken them, and actions carried so much more weight than pretty words.

Within a few heartbeats, his words were tattooed on my skin, flowed through my veins, and etched into my bones. They’d forever be there, no matter what, that I was sure of.

A tiny, nameless muscle twitched along my pointer finger. It was such a minuscule movement that it went unnoticed by Luc, but that frustration in me became a fire that forged steely determination. I pushed past the heavy fatigue.

“It’s okay,” he repeated, his voice weary and gruff with exhaustion as he settled back beside me. “It’ll be okay.”

But it wasn’t.

Not when he sounded like this. I wanted to make him better. I wanted to remove the weariness and concern in his voice and his thoughts. I wanted him to stop hurting and for him to laugh and to feel the tension seep from his muscles. I wanted him to tell me more stupid pickup lines. And I wanted to see how his lips moved when he said he loved me.

A lot had been taken from us. Memories, people we cared about, and actual years’ worth of time, and I’d be damned if we lost any more seconds or minutes. Luc would do anything for me—he’d done just about anything for me, and the least I could do was open my eyes and speak, dammit.

The burst of anger was fuel for my determination, and when I took my next breath, it was stronger, deeper.

I opened my eyes.

And found that I was face-to-face with Luc.

Everything in me seized as I stared at him, not seeing his features at first. Instead, I saw a strange display of colors, a swirling transparent whirl of white and deep violet light that seemed to dance around his face and shoulders before fading out.

Then it was as if I were seeing him for the first time, in vivid, striking clarity. The tumble of locks against his forehead was a mix of gold, red, and brown, as if each strand had been hand-painted. His brows were a strong slash, a slightly deeper brown against skin that held a warm, golden undertone. Those lashes truly were an enviable thick fringe, like I’d remembered, but under his closed eyes were shadows that hadn’t been there before. My heart twisted once more, knowing that worry and fear had put those dark smudges there.

He had what Heidi called a beauty mark, a faint brown speck under the center of his bottom lip. How had I not noticed that before? Nor had I noticed how defined his Cupid’s bow was until now.

I blinked slowly, and the strange array of lights didn’t return, but his eyes remained closed. I knew he wasn’t asleep. Not when he still cradled my cheek and his thumb traced idle circles along my cheek.

My heart started thumping heavily as I forced my lips to move again. “Luc.”

His eyes flew open, and his thumb stilled at the hoarse, low sound of my voice. Deep, brilliant violet eyes locked with mine. “Evie?”

Taking a deep breath as I held his gaze, I told him what