Page 95 of Heir of Broken Souls

Though no one guessed that the battle was not face-to-face with one of our enemies—Hazel—but with the power she wields against the sea.

Knox strides toward me and as he sways, I know it’s bad. And by the furrow of annoyance flitting across his brow, Knox is brimming with tension at the lack of control.

“Gods,” he swears.

“The harder it gets to remain steady the more I want to throttle her.”

A look passes over his eyes, one that makes me pause.

Regardless of our earlier conversation in the late night, what feels like days ago but was only a mere few hours, I ask again, “Do you think I’m becoming a monster?”

Knox shakes his head as he reaches me, wrapping his thick, corded arms around my waist. He plants us both firmly on the deck, as if to remain steady all we have to do is stay connected.

“I believe you’ve suffered a great travesty. I believe your life has never been in your own hands. I believe that having your fate manipulated by others would make even the soundest minds go mad.”

My face crumbles into a frown. “That’s very poetic of you, but you dodged my question.” I can’t help but snort. “And are you saying I’ve gone mad?”

Knox throws his head back on a deep belly laugh.

I shove his chest playfully. “I’m serious! That was a whole lot of nonsense.”

“What I’m trying to say, Angel,” Knox says around a chuckle, his fingers tucking a piece of hair behind my ears, “is that you could never be a monster, because I feel you have every right to be as angry as you are.”

His eyes bore into mine with a hard graveness that makes me pause.

“If I were in your shoes, with the weight of all you have to carry—the loss, the grief, the injustice of having your very life ripped away from you and placed in the hands of a true monster—I would have gone on a killing rampage against all those who did me wrong.” He pulls back, a sly smile tilting up the corner of his lips. “So, no, I do not believe you’re a monster, Angel.”

Something within his words makes the knot in my chest loosen. As if everything I’m feeling has now been validated by the one opinion that matters most. Because at the end of the day, a part of my soul has already been lost and what remains lies within the palm of his hands.

Expelling a long breath, I drop my forehead to his chest, bending my knees as the ship sways and tilts. “When we make it out of this, after we defeat him—because we will—I refuse to exist in a world where he does not perish for his crimes.”

Not that there will be a world to exist in if he conquers these lands.

“I want to spend my days on the estate with you,” I say softly, letting out a small tinge of vulnerability by voicing a dream that may be new but I believe is worth fighting for. “I want to spend my days lounging in bed knowing I’m not needed to hunt down demons. I want to take a dip in the sea and know that the screams along the shore are those of children squealing in joy and not fright. I want to ride Creseda through the forest without the fear of an attack, and most importantly…” I pull back, allowing him to see the depth of my emotions in my blue eyes. “I want to spend the rest of my days with you by my side knowing that he can never take you from me.”

His mouth opens, no doubt to retort with his greatest fear, but I beat him to the punch.

Placing a gentle finger against his lips, I whisper, “I know all the struggles that come with being a king. I know you will always have enemies and foes, but I do not care so long as you are beside me.”

A deep emotion fills his eyes as his face softens, but his hold on me doesn’t waver.

“We’ll get there, Angel.” He drops his head, planting a feather-light kiss against my forehead. “I’ll fight every day for you to have the life you deserve.”

Sucking in a deep breath, I pull back, only to rise on the balls of my feet and plant a kiss against his lips. His touch is electric, stealing the breath from my lungs, but I don’t need it. Not when I’m touching him. Not when his kiss is what fuels the beats of my heart.

Knox moans into my mouth and the sound of it sends chills throughout my body.

The feel of him, the taste, the touch—it’s a heady power. Always has been and always will be, because nothing will ever compare to him.

“Beautiful,” he groans between kisses.

Someone clears their throat behind us.

Knox, as stubborn as ever leaves his lips against mine, pushing himself against me harder as if to make a point. One that I don’t mind.

When he finally does pull back, I keep my fists clenched around his shirt, loving the feel of the linen instead of the leather fighting outfit, purely because I can feel the warmth of his skin. Although that will no doubt change soon. Elysia’s vision showed everyone in their leathers. As if we could all fight against a storm with our steel.

Coming out of the haze that is Knox Holloway, I turn with flushed cheeks to see Harlow, her hand on her hip and seething with a judgmental glare. All the while, Elysia rocks on the back of her heels beside her, smiling.