Page 89 of Vicious Kingdom

Rage shot through my veins. There was a slim possibility I could track down whoever did this, but she was in no state to give me details.

“Thank you for not sending me away,” she added. “That’s one of the reasons I chose you. You make me feel safe.”

The vulnerability was too much. I had to move. I had to hit something!

The drywall crackled under my fist on the wall.

Annaliese sobbed again, a fresh burst of tears springing from her eyes.

“Shit! I’m sorry, I’m just…. Fuck, Anna, seeing you like this—”

She was crying in earnest.

And that was when I realized. She didn’t need a soldier right now. She needed someone who I’d never been.

But for her, I could try to be.

Gathering her in my arms, I lifted her easily. She protested, but I shushed her, making murmuring sounds that seemed more like strangled cat yowls than comfort. I was trying. I was new at this. I brushed her hair away and kissed her forehead as I shifted her to unlock the door.

Kicking it shut, I went straight to the kitchen island where I set her down gently, easing her away just for a moment. I grabbed an icepack from the freezer, knowing she needed it for her eye, and was holding her again almost immediately. I carried her swiftly to the couch, determined not to let her go.

It was awkward, these new motions—comforting instead of destroying—but I would be here for her if it killed me. We sat there together, the clock ticking loud in the background as her cries became soft whimpers, and then softer still. Her tears eventually dried. My instincts were to demand details, to track down the fucker who’d dared touch her, but that could wait. The dead man didn’t matter right now, not in this moment. The only thing that mattered was Annaliese—my Annaliese, who needed me more than she ever had before.

When the icepack lost its potency, she snuggled deeper into my arms. I had done so much to bury the part of me that wanted this, to be this person for her, but holding her like this, I too relaxed. Anger still simmered beneath the surface, and a thirst for vengeance pulsed in my blood. But those needs could wait, and I forced them where they belonged, letting this strange new emotion full of tenderness win out.

Annaliese came to me because she needed me.

But what I wasn’t ready to tell her was that I needed her tonight too.

“I should go.” Her soft whisper jolted me from the sleep I’d dozed into.

“No.” My arms tightened reflexively around her.

She shivered. “I don’t want to impose.”

I cracked my eyes open. The lights were on, and it was late. Annaliese blinked down at me.

“You’re going to be my wife.”You…belong. Here. With me.

She shivered again, and the slight motion jarred me awake.

“You’re cold,” I realized. Idiot that I was, I could have slept on the couch. But that was no way to care for my girl.

“I’m fine, really,” she murmured.

I let out a grunt, telling her I disagreed. Keeping her pressed against me, I rose and went to the bedroom. Her soft, rapid breaths were warm against my cheek. I maneuvered through the dark and found the bed.

“Get under the covers,” I instructed.

Her hesitation was brief but palpable. Then she slid between the sheets, the rustle of fabric filling the silence between us. I stepped back, giving her space, watching as she nestled into the Egyptian cotton like a wounded bird seeking shelter.

Annaliese was fragile.

But only because she was so strong, so resilient out there, facing the world as the dominant soul she was. It was only in this intimate setting that I saw the raw, vulnerable side.

The part that I vowed in that moment to protect and cherish.

Even from me.