Page 872 of Coal Hearts

Tess glanced at Henri and smiled. He groaned and rolled his head. “So he is.” Standing, she shoved her hands into her back pockets. “In that case, I’ll leave you to say hello in private.”

“What did you want to say?”

Heading toward the door, she turned back and smiled. “Only that I’m here if you ever want to vent. Loving a Mercer? It’s not easy. They’re stubborn and proud and have a darkness that I doubt will ever go away, but...they’re also loyal to a fault and love with all their hearts.”

I brought Henri’s knuckles to my lips and kissed him.

“Oh, I know.” I had the absolute privilege of saying that. I know. I know him. He’s a part of me. I know. It felt as if I’d been let into a private, perfect club. One where no one else got to know the true souls of these brothers. No one else was lucky enough to be loved by them.

“In that case, I’ll see you soon.” She winked. “You know...I’ve always wanted a sister.”

She left.

Henri opened his eyes.

And every day that we’d suffered, struggled, and fought to stay alive by playing Victor’s horrible games, fighting fate, sharing lust and temptation, cheating death and merging our souls into one vanished beneath the only truth that mattered.

We’d survived.

We hadn’t destroyed one another, we’d won.

And this was just our beginning.

“Hello,” I whispered, shifting closer to kiss him.

He groaned again, slowly taking stock of his surroundings.

For a second, his face twisted in hate and pain, then smoothed out in surprise. “I...how did I get here?”

“How do you think?” I grinned, my happiness bubbling over and unable to be contained.

“That meddling brother of mine?”

“The one and only.”

His body remembered how to move as he shifted gingerly. His bandaged arm came up. He cupped my cheek ever so softly. “Hi.”

Tears glossed and rolled down my cheeks. “Bonjour.” I kissed him again.

Our tongues touched, our breath caught, and salt from my tears laced our lips. Henri shivered as I pulled away. His smoky eyes caught mine. His face held true awe and affection as he tugged me down to kiss me deeper.

Only once he’d licked away my tears did he press his nose to mine and whisper, “I’ve always loved the taste of your tears. I’ve drunk your fear and your grief but these tears.” He sucked in a shaky breath. “They taste the best.”

I smiled and knew what he was going to say.

I felt it in my heart.

Our unique connection flared bright.

“Because you’ve finally tasted my happiness instead of sadness?”

He flinched then arched higher against the pillows. “I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that. You knowing me better than I know myself.”

“You will. Because we’re going to share a lifetime.”

Gathering me against him, he yanked me onto the bed and inched over to make room. He winced a little as I brushed up against his leg—the leg where a bullet had been festering and I’d watched it be pulled out—and then he kissed me again.

And we didn’t stop for anything.