Page 483 of Once Upon a Fable

Spinning in her hold, I snatched her into a fierce hug. “Everything that I am is yours, Gemma Ashford.”

“And I will cherish and protect you forever, Kas.”

“Fuck, I love you.”

Her response was to squeeze me until she shook in my embrace.

We swayed together, arms locked tight, cheek to cheek, heartbeat to heartbeat.

A simple embrace but it did something I never thought possible.

Her heat and affection seeped into me, wriggling past all the nightmares still inside me, and somehow erased the whispers of before. Her love for me hunted past monstrosities, deleting them, erasing them, granting me a pocket of silence and safety.

I sighed and relaxed.

The gala would push me to my limits.

A part of me would always be reactive, dangerous, and prone to self-preservation, no matter the cost. But no matter what happened, I would survive all thanks to this woman.

Iwouldsurvive.

And I would fight the same battle Jareth was currently enduring.

However, I would fight in a different way.

He would use bloodshed, and I would use words, but together, we would enlist change that meant no one else would have to crawl from the darkness like us.

No other kid would be abandoned to evil.

No other boy, girl, man, or woman would be left to rot in a prison devoid of love and happiness.

I vow it.

CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

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HOLY GOOD GOD.

I almost swooned. Literally, almost floated to the floor like an overly dramatic duchess who’d just seen the stable boy strip.

Kas flinched as he stepped into the living room, studying my expression. “That bad?”

I tried to speak—I truly did—but all that came out was a squeak.

He pulled on the hem of his tux jacket, shuffling self-consciously. “I know I was a dick and wouldn’t let that guy near me with his tape measure, but I thought the suit fit okay.” He frowned in my direction. “But judging by your inability to speak, I’m guessing it looks ridiculous?”

For a man who’d been used in so many different ways, desired by bastards, and raped by bitches, Kas showed his true sheltered soul at that moment. Three days ago (after cautiously hoping that Kas wasn’t going to change his mind about the gala) I’d arranged an in-home rental service that delivered personalized, high-end attire. I’d tried multiple ball gowns while Kas had flatly refused any “dresser” to help him. He’d taken the armful of suggested outfits, thrown me a look, and disappeared into my spare room where the climbing wall was.

He’d taken his time.

The owner of such expensive garments had gotten a tad nervous as Kas held several of his tuxes hostage. While waiting, I’d chosen a lovely silver-lavender dress that reminded me of the faint purple façade of my house and all the homey happiness I’d found sharing my space with Kas.The satin clung to my upper body, revealing arms that would always be slightly more muscular than the average female thanks to all my upper body workouts, before puddling down to the floor in a long swath of silver-purple, flowing into a slight train with a swooped back that played peekaboo with my ass crack.

I felt beautiful in it.

I’d popped to a local salon this afternoon and had my hair styled in loose waves and my makeup done with subtle lips and dark eyes.

However, now I felt completely underdressed.