I'd give my life to gaining retribution for the crimes they'd committed and if I lost my brother for their crimes too then I knew there would be no depths I wouldn't stoop to.
Blood would flow and screams would pour from their throats and I wouldn't stop until I was coated in as much death as they'd caused with their sins.
I might have just been some rich brat with a grudge, but there was one thing my father had taught me which I knew would serve me well in this vendetta. I was made to succeed in all things. So if I went to war, I was destined to win.
And so help the men who fell prey to my wrath.
I’ d hardly slept. Just stolen hours here and there. But never during the night. I watched him vigilantly then. My Night Keeper. My husband. Sometimes I curled beside him, resting my head on his chest and listening to his heartbeat. But other times his fever was so high that I didn't dare suffocate him with my body heat.
It was the sixth day of his illness. And tonight, everything was ghostly quiet in The Temple. I text the group chat every couple of hours to promise them Kyan was okay and always got responses from them all, proving how few hours of sleep each of them were getting themselves. I couldn’t blame them. This was a crucial day for the virus. We’d know soon if he’d survive it or not, but I couldn’t let myself consider him not making it. I wouldn’t.
I watched from a chair beside the bed as Kyan's chest rose and fell too rapidly and he started to shiver. He coughed heavily and it hurt me to watch.
"Baby?" he murmured and I hurried to his side, clasping his hand.
"I'm here," I said gently.
"Lie with me, I need to hold you," he breathed. He sounded so weak and I had the most terrifying feeling he was giving up. That the virus was taking a firmer grip, daring to take the strongest man with the most powerful heart from this world.
"I don't want to fall asleep," I said as he tugged me closer.
"Please," he rasped, looking up at me with desperation in his eyes. "If I die, I want you as close as you can be."
"Please don't say that," I said, tears threatening to spill over. But I forced them back, not letting him see my pain when he had enough pain of his own to face.
"Just in case," he said, tugging on my hand again and I gave in. How could I refuse?
I climbed across him, pulling the covers up over us and wrapping myself around him so his body could feed on the heat of mine. His shivering eased a little and he sighed, tilting his head down to kiss my forehead.
"I love you, Tatum," he breathed.
"Don't," I pleaded, a choked sob escaping me as I clutched him tighter. "Please don't say goodbye."
"I'd be a bad husband if I left without saying goodbye," he said softly, far too softly for Kyan Roscoe. “And I mean it. I love you. I should have said it before. Should have said it a thousand fucking times and now I might only get to say it this once.”
"Stop," I begged, my tears flowing free onto his chest. His skin felt cold against mine and I hugged him tighter, wishing I could give him every drop of warmth in my body. I'd pay any price, strike any deal to save him. If I only knew how to conjure the devil, I'd have sold my soul already. "You're not going anywhere."
He stroked my hair and we fell quiet for a while before he spoke once more. "Our story's been pretty messy hasn’t it, baby? But I wouldn't ask for a do-over. Everything I ever earned in life was forged in dirt and blood and pain. I just never expected to earn something as perfect as you."
"Kyan." My tears washed over his skin and there was nothing I could do stop them anymore. "Our story isn't over. We're going to get through this and the pandemic is going to end. There’s a time beyond this just waiting for us."
He sought out my hand, threading his fingers through mine and running his thumb over the ring that bound me to him. "Where will we go when it’s over?"
"Anywhere you want," I promised. "Where do you want to go?"
He fell quiet, thinking about that as he continued