Tempest of Vengeance Page 33
“Shh,” I said tearfully, overcome myself. For a few minutes we didn’t speak. Part of that was my shock—that Lash had finally said the words I’d waited for so long.
“I never told a woman that before,” he said finally, clearly uneasy. “I feel like I’m lying at your feet helpless, and offering you my underbelly, waiting for you to crush my head with your foot. It was part of the reason I held off for so long, telling you the words, because I knew I was going to feel this afraid.”
“I’m not going to hurt you,” I said emotionally. “I love you. I’m glad, that you love me, too.”
“It’s like a fire in my veins, what I feel for you,” he murmured. “It’s with me all the time, every time I think of you, see you, or smell the scent of you. I always thought Dev was a hopeless romantic, to waste so much time writing poetry, or composing songs. I never understood why he bothered, or what the point was. But I get it now. He was trying to give the feelings form, to share what he felt in a way the person he cared for could understand.”
I held him to me, his breathing slowly quieted, and he rested his head on my shoulder. We didn’t speak, but it was like the other times we’d spent together like this, where it was okay we weren’t talking, because it was enough to just be together, holding each other.
“I was always on the outside looking in,” he whispered. “I’ve never felt like this, that I was part of something.”
“You’re part of me. I’m only sorry I didn’t tell you how much you meant to me months ago, Tristan. That night in the hotel room, when you first changed for me—”
“I saw it, in your eyes,” he interrupted. “And no matter what I told you, no matter how much I denied it, I know you saw it in mine. I hadn’t had human eyes for so long, Sar, I’d forgotten I needed to hide my emotions, how easy it was to see what I was feeling in my eyes. I didn’t mean for you to see what I felt, I didn’t want to complicate your life any. I meant what I said later, that you had enough men that loved you.”
I remembered what he’d admitted to me and Devlin in Davy’s, and knew that was a white lie. He had meant to complicate my life, he’d wanted to get me pregnant, so he could be with me instead of Theo. But I left it alone, because it was past, and it didn’t matter. And the absolute truth was I had briefly considered asking him to use protection that day. But when he had told me that he’d not been with anyone but me, I’d decided not to. Because, like him, I really hadn’t wanted to use any, either. I’d wanted to feel his skin on mine, in mine. And I deserved my share of the blame for that. “You were the one I wanted to love me,” I murmured. “Because the moment I knew you were dying, all I could think of was getting to you, to save you.”
“Hold me in your arms,” he asked softly. “I want to be in your arms, Sar.”
I held him to me, and hugged him, running my fingers through his hair as I kissed him.
“Tell me again you love me,” he whispered, clutching me.
“I love you, Tristan,” I said tenderly. “I love your fierceness, your wacky sense of humor, your air of danger you always seem to carry around you, your tenderness, your strength and speed. I love your silence, that sometimes it’s enough for you to be with me and not talk—that words between us aren’t always necessary.”
Tristan, my Tristan, looked into my green eyes with his dark ones, and then he kissed me very, very gently. He gave me a soft tender smile, and caressed my cheek with his hand. Then he nestled himself in my arms, and soon after, he drifted into sleep. I held him as he slept, stroking his hair, thinking that maybe we were both a little crazy. But I realized something, too, holding him there in my arms.
I was happy. Not content, not satisfied, not okay. I was happy, groundbreakingly happy, earth-shatteringly happy, as I hadn’t been since that long ago spring with Theo, before he’d been taken and everything in my world had changed. And I was holding the reason for that happiness sleeping in my arms.
“This is what I wanted from my life,” I said softly, looking down at him. “This is all I ever wanted, just to be this happy, to love someone, and to have someone who loved me, the real me. And you’ve given that to me, Tristan.”
Maybe I hadn’t been the best person I could’ve been. I’d made mistakes, but screw it, so did everyone else. And I was going to let it go, all the things I’d done wrong, because ruminating about it for the rest of my life wasn’t going to change anything.
I had Tristan. We had each other. It was enough that he was with me, that I had him here in my arms, and despite all I’d lost, I hadn’t lost him.
About the Author
Tara Fox Hall’s writing credits include nonfiction, horror, suspense, action-adventure, erotica, and contemporary and historical paranormal romance. She is the author of the paranormal action-adventure Lash series and the vampire romantic suspense Promise Me series. Tara divides her free time unequally between writing novels and short stories, chainsawing firewood, caring for stray animals, sewing cat and dog beds for donation to animal shelters, and target practice.
Other works by the author with Melange Books, LLC
Return To Me
Surrender to Me
The Origin of Fear in Spellbound 2011 Anthology
Night Music in Midnight Thirsts II Anthology
Partners in Midnight Thirsts II Anthology
Kink in Wicked Christmas Wishes Anthology
The Oath in Wicked Christmas Wishes Anthology
Bedtime Shadows Anthology
Make Me Behave Anthology
Latham’s Landing, An Anthology
The Oath
Her Frozen Heart, in Frozen Anthology
Night Music, a Novella
The Promise Me Series
Promise Me, Book 1
Broken Promise, Book 2
Taken in the Night, Book 3
Taken for his Own, Book 4
Promise Me Anthology, Book 4.5
Immortal Confessions, Book 5
Her Secret, Book 6
Point of No Return, Book 7
Lost Paradise, Book 8
Dark Solace, Book 9
Eye of the Storm, Book 10
Coming Soon
Sundown-Serena—Promise Me Series, Book 12
The Perfect Moment, in ‘Propose To Me’ Anthology
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