Page 112 of Beautiful Ruins
“You would rather stay here?”I asked.
“No,” she replied instantly.“I would rather die in your arms than live a million miles away from you pretending I’m safe while you’re out here fighting wars alone.”
Something inside me collapsed.Before I could stop myself, I crossed the space between us and pulled her into me, one hand gripping the back of her neck as I kissed her with a force that had nothing to do with desire and everything to do with relief, frustration, and something intoxicatingly close to obsession.
She didn’t pull away.Her hands fisted into my hair, grounding, steady, real.Alive.
When I finally pulled back, my breathing was uneven.
“You have no idea what it felt like driving back to this house.”
Her expression softened slightly.
“I did call you, Raze.”
“I saw.”
“I was scared.”
“So was I,” I admitted.
The words left before I could stop them.
Her brows knit together.
“I couldn’t reach Archie.I couldn’t reach my men.I couldn’t reach you.”My voice was lower now, rougher.“Do you understand what that does to a man who is used to dominance?To information and certainty?”
Silence.
“Chaos.That is what happens in my head when the people I protect stop answering.”
I looked at her properly then.
“For a moment,” I conceded, “I thought I had lost you.”
Her lips parted slightly.
“I don’t think,” I continued slowly, “I could survive another loss.”
The confession sat between us.
“Izzy, panic strips a man down to his worst truths.And mine is simple.”
I swallowed once.
“If something happened to you… it would break me.Worse than death would.”
Her eyes softened completely.
“You’re not going to lose me,” she pointed out gently.
“You cannot promise that.”
“I can promise that I’m not running,” she returned evenly.“Not from you.Not from this.Have some faith, Raze.”
Faith.
A concept I had long replaced with self-command.
