20
Iwatch her from across the table, those dainty hands, her small and yet undefeatable body, the way her eyes have seemed take on a steel coating as if the world could come at her but she would stand atop it all and break everyone who dare try to defeat her.
It’s a far cry from the girl Kingston delivered to my arms. A far cry from the girl I thought I would never get back.
All it does is make me harder than a fucking rock inside my pants.
My little bird is not so little anymore. She’s a fucking phoenix, rising from the ashes to destroy our enemies. She’s a goddess, a formidable presence that when crossed will simply explode to protect what she loves the most.
She wraps her perfect lips around the fork to slide the piece of meat from the tongs into her mouth and flicks her eyes to me, quirking one brow as if to ask me what is going on inside my head.
We needed to discuss things. Things separate to the shit burning our kingdom to the ground around us. Things that simply cannot be ignored.
Did I deserve her dying words?
Of course not.
Was I going to ignore them? That’s a big fucking no.
“Little bird,” I coo, finishing my dinner and placing my cutlery on the plate before me.
“Twisted king,” she smirks.
I laugh, leaning back in my chair as I watch her across the table.
She finishes her plate and then leans back in her chair, cocking her eyebrow, “Something the matter?”
“We need to discuss things.”
“What is there to talk about?”
“Back at the club,” flashbacks of the fire raging around us, the blood spilling from her body, staining the ground beneath where she lay freezes my tongue. My eyes squeeze shut. Her, right there, a wound that should have been fatal spurting blood from her abdomen, rivers of crimson running over her pale skin, her breath slow and shallow. Her dying and me not being able to save her. Her being ripped from me.
A body before me brings me back to the now and when I open my eyes I see her there, fiery hair, emerald green eyes, holding a fire that only belonged in hell within them but dulled, soft, warm as she stares up at me. “Tell me.”
“You said you loved me. Was that true?”
I couldn’t help but feel like a little boy at this point. But I had to ask. I needed to know.
She sits back onto her heels and cocks her head, a small, devious smile curving her lips, “Why, Lex, are we feeling a little insecure?”
“Little bird, do not push me.”
Her smile only curves higher on her mouth but she does not toy, she leans forward, pressing her delectable mouth to mine, “Yes it was true.”
“You love me?”
She sits back but far from relaxed. “Yes. Lex, I love you, though I’m sure it’ll leave me as damned as you are.”
A grin carves my lips.
“Don’t be so smug.”
“How can I not?”
“Because I doubt this is a victory.”
“It is a victory, my little bird,” I drag her to my lap, positioning her in a way that means she has to straddle my lap and feel how much her words affect me, “for I have won the most prized possession of all.”