“It was the grand gesture,” she whispered, her gaze falling from mine.
“He proposed?” I asked in utter shock, standing. “He fucking proposed to you?!” So much for not being a hotheaded neanderthal. “The level of entitlement that asshole felt, to have the audacity to propose to a woman who is not fucking his and who clearly doesn’t want him!” I roared, wanting to rip him apart.
I was so punching his ugly-ass face after this. The disrespect he showed to force her into such an uncomfortable position… Like, what in the actual fuck? Who did that? I was fuming.
“I told him no,” she immediately assured, standing too. “I said I couldn’t give him a heart that was no longer mine to give and left. I swear it.”
Damn, she thought I was angry at her. My fury was instantly snuffed at the sight of her guilt. Pulling her into my arms, my mouth claimed hers like I’d had the privilege to do so many times.
“You have nothing to feel guilty about, Baby,” I whispered against her lips, my eyes searching hers. “All you have ever done is forgive him and treat him like a friend. I am angry with him, not you. Because he took advantage of the care you feel for him. Lachlan should have never put you in that position, specially while knowing you love me.”
Evie’s body sagged against mine in relief, her arms wrapping around my neck. “I do love you,” she whispered, kissing me again.
“I love you too.” Placing a kiss on her neck, I held her even closer, taking in the smell of her and feeling grateful I was gifted a woman like her by the Sky Gods.
I also internally cursed because that fucking gesture was hard to top.
“He won’t even touch her,” Evie whispered after we’d been holding each other for what seemed like forever.
“What?” I asked, confused, leaning back enough to glance at her again.
“Willow’s pain hurts like my own,” she confessed, letting me know Lachlan’s situation was not the only thing bothering her. “She confessed amidst tears that she is in love with Kingston. She always has been, but she thinks he wants nothing to do with her because he has never even held her hand.”
“What do you mean? Of course, he’s touched her.” Even as I rebutted, the scene from earlier tonight flashed in my mind. Willow had flat out asked him to carry her up the stairs, but he’d only offered his arm to her.
“I thought so too, but she showed us as much tonight. He will not touch her.”
To someone else, it might seem like he was just being extremely polite, but anyone who had eyeballs and actually used their brains could see he was head over heels in love with that woman. She clearly loved him too, so what the hell? My mind ran through every moment I’d seen them share to end only in sadness.
“I don’t understand,” I admitted. “What is keeping him away?”
“Maybe he doesn’t think she could ever love him?” Evie guessed, walking out of my arms to sit on the bed again.
“But that doesn’t explain why he won’t even hold her hand,” I reasoned. “If anything, he should be looking for any excuse to feel her hand, her cheek. Hell, if I was in love with you and you weren’t mine, I would probably be applying to be one of your ladies. I’d do your hair every day, no problem. Trust me, guys want to touch.”
A few chuckles escaped her, but sadness clung to her gaze. “I don’t understand either. They both deserve to be happy. Kingston deserves…”
Her words faded when my gaze connected with my scar through the mirror.
“No, he doesn’t,” I interjected, remembering every time I’d seen the chief fist his hands, his thumb rubbing the edges of the disfigured skin on his palms. “He doesn’t deserve her.”
“Why would you say such a thing?” Evie asked, insulted, standing from the bed.
Humbled by the understanding sweeping over me, I walked to her side.
“Because that’s what he believes,” I explained, guiding her hand to my side where the evidence of my past spread over my bare skin. “This scar is a testament to what I’m fighting for. I embraced it as part of me because it signifies what my father sacrificed so I could make it back to my world, and help you free our people once and for all.”
Lifting her hand from my side, I placed a kiss on it, letting go of her.
“Kingston’s scars are not that. They haunt him, Evie. They remind him every day of the atrocities he was forced to commit. Each time he feels his own hands, when he looks at them, he is not the honorable man all of us look up to. He is back there. He’s the Warlock’s sentry again. A man who could never be good enough for Willow. Who could never deserve her. Someone who is not worthy of even holding her hand, no matter how desperately he wishes he could.”
Tears brimmed in her eyes as she looked at me, recognizing the truth as I had, but she took a deep breath, keeping the emotion at bay.
“I have to go see him,” she whispered, moving to walk past me, but I held her arm before she could.
“Let me.”
A troubled sigh left her, but she nodded, trusting me to help the man who had spent the second part of his life caring for her and making sure she was safe.
“Chief, are you awake?” I asked from the short maze-like entrance to his room.
We really needed doors.
“Come in,” he called back after a few seconds, turning away from the window to face me when I entered. “Is there something Evanna needs?” His first thought was always for her, bringing warmth to my heart.
“No. But I think it’s about time you and I had that talk,” I began, buying time to approach the subject of him and Willow.
“I’m listening,” he offered, giving me his full attention.
Now it was on, and guilt gripped my gut. “Chief, first and foremost, I just wanted to you know that my intention wasn’t to court Evanna behind your back. I never meant to hide my intentions from you and disrespect you in any way, or her. What we feel for each other just—”
“Took over you,” he finished for me, and I slowly nodded. “That is usually the case,” he admitted, longing engulfing his words. “When someone claims your heart as theirs, there is never any warning, nor the strength to walk away.”
“I understand that now,” I agreed, sensing he wasn’t just talking about Evanna and me. He was referring to his love for Willow. “Still. I wish I had been able to talk to you, ask for your permission—"
“I have no need for your words, Braxton,” he assured, stepping closer. “Your actions have shown me the man that you are, long before today. They have spoken louder than any shout or vow ever could. I know that there is no place in this realm where Evanna will be safer, or happier, than she is by your side. You have my blessing, Son.”
Son…
Emotion cut through me, burning my throat. “Thank you, Kingston.”
He offered me a slight head bow and turned back to the window, probably expecting me to leave.
Movement caught my eye, and I glanced down at his hands, his thumb dutifully rubbing the edges of his scar. The sight reminded me of why I was really here.
“When I first saw you do that after I arrived, I thought that was a tic,” I confessed.