Page 85 of Tainted Saints

A sob falls from my lips, my hands pulling him to me by his neck, pressing our bodies close. I vaguely hear gasps and murmurs from around us, but I don’t give a shit what they think. All I know is Lan’s lips on mine, his tongue stroking mine and telling me that I will never be without them again.

“Get off her!” the Ambassador snarls, and I pull slowly back, no longer afraid of him with my soulmates so close.

I turn to look at the man who has been my nightmare, who has ruled my life, and feel nothing but apathy for him.

“You don’t get a say in my life anymore,” I tell him, my own voice strong and sounding like the woman I always wanted to be. “And you will never lock me in the dark again.”

His cheeks flush as the murmurs of the crowd grow louder, and a smile grows on my face at the fact that I have some power over him, even if it’s small. Dismissing him as he always did me, I turn my back and go to Blaine.

“Hola, mi tesoro,” he says in that delicious voice of his, and I give him a quick kiss too, just to assure myself that he, too, is real. Then I turn to Forest, my brows pinched as I take in the pain he’s clearly in.

“Forest?” I ask, but it’s more of a whisper, and ignoring his injury, he pulls me into him, his scent of rose, gin, and leather tinged with copper.

“I’m here, sugar. As if we’d ever leave you,” he whispers into my ear as I stifle a cry and cling to him. “Come now, let’s take you home.”

Nodding, I wrap my arm around his waist, wanting to help support his other side and grateful for the wide aisle that allows me to do that.

“Don’t you dare walk away, Aspen,” the Ambassador snarls, and I pause, looking over my shoulder at him. His face is mottled, his hands clenched into fists at his side, but it’s not frightening, it’s pathetic.

For a moment, I want to say something, to rage at how poorly he’s treated me my whole life. Then I realise that he doesn’t deserve anything more from me, that the worst thing I can do to him is act as if he’s of no consequence. So, like he doesn’t matter at all, which he doesn’t anymore, I turn back to the front and we make our way down the aisle and into the sunshine.

ChapterThirty-Five

“Elephant” by Freya Ridings

ASPEN

We takea car back to the Pound, the place that feels so much more like home than the huge Ambassador’s residence ever did. I have to swallow the lump in my throat when we walk towards the door and Bolt comes bounding up to us, rubbing his head against my hand for scratches.

“You doing okay, Duchess?” Lan asks when I pause in the doorway, blinking rapidly to stop the tears that have gathered from falling.

“I thought I’d never see this place again,” I confess in a whisper, looking around at the small space and feeling relaxed for the first time in over a week.

Blaine turns to face me after helping Forest get settled on the couch. “It’s your home now, for however long you want it.”

“Always,” I tell him without missing a beat, earning one of his rare smiles.

“In that case,” Lan says, his lips twitching as he hoists me into his arms, bridal style.

“What are you doing?” I giggle, wrapping my arms around his neck and letting him carry me into the room. He kicks the door shut behind him, never loosening his hold.

“Well, this is what you do with brides, Duchess,” he tells me, his condescending tone earning him a slap on his ridiculously hard pec. The fucker just laughs, bending down and placing me in Forest’s lap.

“Careful!” I admonish as Forest winces slightly, but he just wraps his good arm around me and pulls me closer, my dress flowing over us both and pooling on the floor.

“I’m okay, Little Lady,” he assures me, kissing my cheek lightly and taking a huge inhale. “The worst part of almost dying was thinking I’d never hold you again, so let me enjoy it.”

“What happened?” I ask softly, brushing my fingers around the bandage.

“Albert’s pops shot me,” he states, casual as fuck. I rear back, eyes wide.

“He did what? Why aren’t you at the hospital? Jesus, Forest, has anyone—” He cuts me off with a finger to my lips, a broad smile on his face, though frankly, I don’t see what he’s grinning about. He was shot, for fuck’s sake.

“We took Forest to a guy we know, who always patches us up when shit goes south,” Blaine informs me, handing Forest a glass of whiskey and then passing me one before going back for his own.

“You’ve needed his help often?” I ask, nibbling my lower lip when I think about any of them hurt and needing to be patched up. I’ve only just got them back, it’s too raw to think of the possibility of them being taken away so soon.

“Hey,” Forest murmurs, setting his glass down and brushing his fingers over my cheek. They come away glistening. “We’re okay, sugar.”