Lost in distracting thoughts, my eyes fluttered when honesty hour kicked off and he asked, “It was your sister, wasn’t it?” My eyes met his when he elaborated. “She wanted me dead, she put you up to it and you did it because it’s better to be the right hand of the devil than stuck in his path.” Ashamed, I closed my eyes, refusing to look at him when he sighed then said, “I had my suspicions, but some of the things she said that night confirmed it.”

When I scooched forward and all but fell into his lap, facing him, he didn’t stop me from undoing the buttons of his shirt and parting the white silk until it was there, right in front of my eyes. The scar was fading and had since turned a lighter shade of pink, but no matter how much it healed, I would always remember the gaping wound spilling out with blood and knowing I had caused it.

My heart ached. I leant in and softly pressed my lips to the reminder of the tragedy I’d almost caused.

It was barely a whisper. “I’m sorry.”

He took in a shuddering breath when I kissed it slowly in apology, over and over again, and when his arms snaked around my middle, pulling me close, I teetered over the edge of the cliff as this brash man comforted me for my own faults and failings.

I was tipped over the edge when he turned my head to the side, forcing me to look at him, looked me dead in the eyes and uttered, “If all I had to do was take a bullet to deserve you, empty the fucking clip in me.”

Oh God.

Oh God.

He said it so casually, as if he hadn’t just reached into my chest and plucked out my heart.

My lips began to tremble and my vision blurred. I hadn’t meant to say it out loud but it croaked out of me, “I think I’m in love with you.”

Tor’s eyes flashed. His lips captured mine in a harsh and demanding kiss that was utterly cleansing. Eventually, the kiss gentled and slowed, and when he bussed my lips with his, he pulled back enough to say, “About fucking time.”

I sniffled and smiled into his lips, although it shook.

I’d never been in love before. It was a strange mixture of warmth and affection, of tenderness and care, but it was also raw and painful, and somewhere below all of those sparkling feelings was cold, anxious dread. Because I couldn’t lose this. I couldn’t lose him.

Not after I just got him.

* * *