He flittered to the dais, a length of chain in hand and hooked one end of the chain to her throne. Then he moved several feet away, out of her reach. With his hot gaze on her, he slapped a metal collar around his neck—a link of chain kept him tethered.
Oh, no he didn’t. “Remove the collar, Kaysar. Now.” She hated to see him in it, knowing the cost.
“I will. After my mission is complete, my team back together.”
“Kaysar.” She white-knuckled the arms of her throne. “You can’t just—”
“I have two other gifts for you,” he interjected once again. He moved directly in front of her, with his hands braced on the chair. “I give you the three little words you have deserved for so long—you were right.”
Her breath caught. Okay, yeah, the pronouncement got to her. Maybe she could give him another chance, after all?
“Last,” he said, “I give you my heart. In every incarnation.” He dropped to his knees before her and sank his claws into his chest, where the skin had already begun to heal. “I will show you how it beats for you.”
Cookie grabbed his wrist, stilling his hand. “Don’t,” she commanded. Chained was bad enough. But injured, too? “Let me think for a second.”
With a soft, hopeful expression, he told her, “Please, do. I’ll be here no matter how long it takes. You are stunning, by the way. You captured my heart all over again at first sight.”
Astonishing. He understood her choice of outfit. But then, he’d always understood her moods, hadn’t he?
As Cookie’s heart thudded, her mind whirled. The man whose freedom had been stolen as a child was willing to give up his freedom as an adult, simply to be near her, proving his claims with action.
Now he watched her so earnestly, as if nothing mattered more than her response.
Did she believe he’d forgiven her for the terrible act she’d committed for a greater good? Yes. So how could she not do the same and forgive him for something he’d done in the midst of a centuries-long culmination of grief? Why was she holding on to her hurt, letting fear rule her life?
Yes, he’d messed up and lashed out. But he’d owned it, and he was fighting to get her back. Fighting. For her. He was doing everything in his power to make amends, as promised. And she did love him. So much. The complicated king with a thirst for revenge had brought her to life in ways her two hearts never had.
Without hurt there to color her thoughts and perceptions, she had to admit the truth. Her desire for him had never faded. If anything, she craved him more than ever. Nights without him sucked. Days without him sucked worse. Even with Pearl Jean and Sugars here, she’d felt so alone.
For Cookie, Kaysar was connection and connection was Kaysar.
She met his gaze once again, and he smiled so brightly her eyes watered.
“You’ve forgiven me one hundred percent?” he asked, winding his arms around her to slide her butt to the edge of the seat. “You’ll wear the team uniform again?”
“I have, and I will.” Leaning toward him, she cupped his cherished face. “We can start a new game. So remove the collar and take me to—”
Blink. The collar was gone, and Cookie and Kaysar were inside her bedroom, flat on the bed. He peppered soft, lingering kisses all over her face, giving each of her features a personal welcome home.
“I love you today,” he said between those kisses. “I’ll love you tomorrow. And the next day. And the next. And the next. There won’t be a single moment you aren’t certain of my adoration for my precious.”
Smiling, she cupped his jaw and met his gaze. “Your enemies are mine, Kaysar. Those who wrong you, wrong me. Those who harm you will suffer my wrath. My present and future belong to you.”
How he loved his mate. “I will give you the world, Chantel.”
She winked at him. “Not if I give it to you first.”
EPILOGUE
KAYSAR HELD A naked Chantel in his arms. After a two-week marathon of lovemaking she’d referred to as “make-up sex,” they lay intertwined on their bed, talking as they loved to do.
“Jareth’s coronation as king is tomorrow,” she said with a grin. “I’d like to attend.”
“Then we shall attend,” he replied. Though he hated to admit it, and he would never admit it again, he kind of liked the pup.
“He’s asked that we not kill anyone.”
“And you told him...?”
“That I can’t make any promises. What if someone deserves it?”
“That’s my darling girl.” Always thinking fifty slaughters ahead.
She traced a fingertip around his nipple. “Is it bad that I hope someone deserves it?”
He smoothed a strand of hair from her cheek, hooking it behind her ear and smiled. “It’s perfect, love. You are perfect.” Strong enough to do what he couldn’t. Brave enough to free the wounded bear from its cage. “Before we leave, you should fill the palace with poisonvine, so that Micah can’t enter it without suffering. Lest he decide to renege on our bargain or sneak in and steal something.”
“Of course,” she said with a nod. “You know, you should take me to see the Midnight Court first. I should tour the place, so I can explain to Jareth all the reasons your kingdom is better than his.”
Kaysar shot rock hard. She knew how to arouse him in seconds.
He kissed her brow, the tip of her nose, her lips. “It’s not my kingdom, love. It’s ours. What’s mine is yours, and what’s yours is mine. And stopping by the Midnight Court is wise.” He thought for a moment. “I suppose I must command a portion of our armies to cease warring with Hador’s—Jareth’s soldiers at some point.”
“Speaking of our armies, do you think...maybe... possibly...any of our men have a thing for horny old ladies?”
“Pearl Jean seeks a suitor? Very well. Only the best for our friend.”
The bedroom door opened. Though no one peeked into the room, Pearl Jean called, “Sorry, but this is happening. He’s been a little monster, and I’m too busy coming down with a fae-cold.”
The door closed after Sugars strode inside, the master of all he surveyed. He jumped on the bed, claiming a spot on the pillows.
The cat had taken an instant liking to him. In fact, the little darling preferred him to anyone else, including Chantel. A fact she found highly amusing.
Contentment cocooned Kaysar, as surely as Chantel’s vines often did. Life had never been better.
Perhaps he and Chantel would spend some time searching for Viori. He kept Drendall on lock and key at the Midnight Court, awaiting his sister’s return. Until he found her or her body, he would not give up. Not again.