❞𝖂ell, that takes care of that," Badar's voice was arctic. The scariest I'd ever heard him sound. "Sad that it had to happen this way."

Before I could say anything, Scorpio aimed at his leg and shot. Blood spluttered from Badar's kneecap and he gazed at us in shock.

"There's a security camera over the door," I said. "Even if I wanted to-which I don't-I can't save you. No one will."

"Security," Zeenia ordered them to move, her hand tight on my waist, face lined with grief.

Badar's eyes flicked to me before returning to her. "I overestimated you. You're just like her. Just like them."

"You underestimated me Badar-" as security moved toward him, he took a step backward and raised his hands, silently warning them to keep their distance.

His tone was cautious as he gauged my reaction. "I refuse to be put in a box. I will not be known as some nameless madman who went on a murder spree-" he stood tall, unashamed as he said this. "Give me what you owe me, or else-"

"Or else what?" Zeenia taunted, clicking her fingers to get the security team to move. "Taimoor didn't hit the ground. He's still alive. Somewhere," rage and pride made her voice shake violently.

He stiffened, and his jaw set as if this new information had slapped him.

"Hanging on but not for long. The rain's going to finish the job sooner or later," Zeenia and I froze in place. Everything around us decelerated to a stop, and the world focused on Badar. It was cold outside, but Badar's voice was so chilling, it made me shiver. The glaciers in his eyes flash boiled, but his voice was eerily calm and quiet. "You won't take me. None of you will."

His chest heaved as he backed up against the railing, and his gaze frantically darted away. The security team closed in despite his many threats, unfazed. He hadn't expected this reaction. Like me, he was trembling, but his was with a different emotion.

The storm tonight was unlike anything the city had ever seen. The rain was an unending torrent that flooded the streets, with wind strong enough to knock out power lines and topple a man.

Horrified surprise went through Badar's face as his foot slipped and he tipped backward.

Unlike Taimoor, Badar was too stunned to make a sound, and although his hands clawed at the air, he didn't find anything to grab on to. There was nothing to save him.

I stood paralyzed as his legs went up to the sky and his body spilled over the side, slipping toward the earth.

And then he was gone, vanished over the edge of the building.

I screamed beneath the hand I clasped to my mouth. I blinked desperately, trying to clear the image from my mind. No one moved. No one said a word, not even as the distant, panicked screams carried upward from the sidewalk below. Yet another proof that Taimoor was still hanging on.

My heart wasn't working, and neither were my lungs. How was Taimoor going to survive in this weather?

"Scorpio, help me find him," I sobbed, the words robbed from my soul, feet carrying me to the ledge, my heart fracturing into the air, cooled by his absence. "Please, Taimoor. Come back. Come back, come back, come back."

Footsteps crunched but never neared. I cared nothing for them, for whatever issues still raged around us. If he was gone, I wouldn't leave. I would stay.

"Ma'am?" a male's voice said.

"What?"

"We fear he's-"

"He's what? He's here, I know it," I snapped, the words echoing into eternity, useless, meaningless now.

"Daania, he's not here," Zeenia said, her eyes bright and shiny from her tears. Only the survival part of my brain was functioning, overruling everything else."I bluffed, we think he-" a gut-wrenching sob escaped her chest. "We think he ended up in the lake-"

He was here. I knew it. He wouldn't leave me. Not like this.

Where was he?

A stillness roared through me, so complete, violent in its silence. Tears raced anew as I searched for him, leaking onto my face, dripping to the floor. That ravine had finally broken, the roiling current too strong to be contained. It crashed through me.

It exploded.

The possibility of Taimoor's eventual victory had been the only thing that'd kept me going so long without cracking.

I didn't have a plan for this.

Didn't give a thought to what I'd have done if it hadn't worked, or if I failed because I needed it to work. I needed to succeed.

The alternative terrified me.

Movement near the ledge caught my eye.

I closed my eyes, listening for any sound, hoping it wasn't a trick of the light. Hope blossomed inside my chest.

Please.

Something black stirred with an abruptness that left me, wondering if it was my imagination. A slip, a curse, and a cold and paralyzing fear gripped me, until Scorpio joined me, looking out into the dark, his body alert.

Nervous, I reached out, pushing back the emotion, just in time to see a hand appear to the side. For a moment, I couldn't move. Couldn't breathe. The pressure inside my chest felt as if it might burst.

Bright silver eyes, as bright as the moon, met mine and I lurched forward. Someone yelled, but I was already leaning over the side, both of my hands clasped on his wrist. My grip on his forearm was ferocious, a vise of steel, fingers gripping the collar of his shirt and then his shoulders, so wet from the rain before I pulled him with every ounce of strength I did not possess.

"Scorpio, help me," my bodyguard rushed to my side, his arms around his boss, both of us trying to pull him back to solid ground. And as soon as he had a good grip, we began to lift and pull, dragging Taimoor awkwardly up over the side of the railing.

He stumbled to the floor, and I reached toward him, reaching out to grab his arm and then wrapped both arms around Taimoor's shoulders. I couldn't feel the bones in my body or hear anything over the roaring rush of the blood in my head, but as long as I was pressed to him, I knew I was alive. I closed my eyes, praying he'd be there when I opened them again, and to my utter relief, he was.

Through panting breaths of panic, I stared down at my hands, they shook uncontrollably beside his face. I was trembling, and as I pressed to him, I could feel his heart pounding as frantically as mine. I fell over his wounds as though I could stem them all if only I could cover them... instead, I focused on the feel of his skin beneath my palm. The tangibility of his body. A new wave of emotion moved through me, his form blurred behind a shield of tears.

I melted into him. He was solid and warm and the love of my life. Strength evaded me with each ragged breath, and I curled over Taimoor, too weak to move even if I'd wanted to. I didn't. I knew I would eventually have to, but I couldn't fathom it. Not yet.

"Don't leave me," I croaked, my nose skimming over the stubble on his jaw, inhaling the faint scent in his neck. "Don't you ever leave me."

"Never," he groaned, and I dragged my eyes from his chest.

I exhaled, breath gone and long forgotten as relief slammed into me. I smiled, reaching for that face, my hand too heavy, flopping to his shoulder instead.

Something darkened his eyes, and it wasn't until he propped up his head, that I realized it was the dilating of his pupil, making him look feral.

Wild.

"Someone's in trouble," I gasped, forcing my heavy eyes to his face. I wanted to say more, but tiredness won out. Exhaustion wouldn't allow me to stay awake another second.

"Daania," his lips smacked together and he swallowed, groaned again, then cursed. He was the one who was hurt, but as he took in my face and saw how I had an arm braced against him to hold myself upright, he only seemed to be worried about me. "You're not well... Zeenia, she's in shock, she's passing out-" he ordered, voice hoarse, my fingers curling on his chest, my mind and heart finally at peace.

༻✺༺

Light fingers danced across my brow, smoothing back my hair, gliding down and over my cheek.

I curled closer to that touch, knowing whose it was, wanting more-needing more. Warmth engulfed me, a strong arm at my back pulling me into a firm chest. When I woke, he was still there, waiting, eyes bruised but faint, sleep lining his mouth and lingering upon his mussed hair.

My relief was instant, profound, as I reached for that face, that hair, then paused when my arm slid over something rough near his forearm. A bandage. I blinked hard, memories arising.

The meeting. The fight. Badar. His confession.

Reading my panic, Taimoor cupped my cheek, his voice gentle but not reassuring.

"Just a scratch. It's nothing, believe me. It's over," but for how long, I wondered, and knew he was aware by the dimming of his steel eyes. "We'll worry about that later."

Later.

A bland word had never sounded so sweet. A promise I'd taken for granted my entire life. Looking into those eyes, feeling his touch, so real, so warm, so blessedly alive upon my skin...

"I've got breakfast," Mrs. Khan cried, the door to our rooms opening with a resolute bang, hurrying into his chambers as though she had every right to be there. On a reflex, I pulled the sheets up to my chin. I wasn't naked by any means but the thought of being caught in bed with my husband was enough to make me feel like I was.

Taimoor sighed and rolled back, strolling to the antechamber. I focused on studying the broad planes of his back and the way his muscles shifted underneath the soft cotton t-shirt he pulled over his head as he moved around.

"Good morning."

"Good morning sir. Is ma'am awake? Does she need any help? Should I let the doctor know? Her parents?" she said, as though worried someone might overhear.

"She's awake and please let the doctor know that she's fine. And I think she'd like to tell her family herself. Are they up yet?"

"No sir, they usually wake up at nine," I looked at the clock on my side table. It was seven a.m.

"Well, that should give her some time, thank you," thank you?

"Very well sir! We all hope to see her soon, we've been so worried."

"I appreciate the concern and I'm sure she will too," was that genuine warmth in his voice? "I'll let her know."

The doors closed after her, and I heard a definitive click. Something was off. Staring at him walk back to me, only made the sinking feeling in my gut worse because I immediately noticed the muscle in his jaw jumping.

"Did you just lock everyone out?"

"Of course," he said, prowling toward me with a grace that defied the turmoil his body had gone through. The overly-laden tray was left on the small table. Mrs. Khan had prepared just about everything on the breakfast menu. Slight rumbles sounded from my stomach as I stared at the eggs benedict and the signature pancakes.

"Don't you think that's a little too much? I'm fine..."

"It's been days," he whispered in strangled explanation coming back to my side. He caught my hand on the bed, bringing it to his mouth. Endless grey eyes stole my eyes, my breath, the beating of my heart as those silken lips glossed over each knuckle.

My stomach flipped and heated, the sensation of fire spreading throughout each limb too fast to stop and I buried my face in his neck.

"How many?" I mumbled against his shoulder.

His hand rubbed down my back, fingers carefully untangling some of my hair. "Three. "

"I feel like I can sleep for another four," I said, embarrassment scoring through me. Had I passed out? Had my anxiety caused me to suffer a burnout? And to this extent?

"Don't say that. We've all been beside ourselves. Your family was worried sick, so my mother decided to step in and asked them to stay here."

Something in his voice, the quiet reservation in his tone, made the worry brewing in my soul even more acute. I didn't hear Taimoor move, but I felt the moment he shifted behind me. That familiar tingle of awareness zipped down my spine just seconds before his hands went to my shoulders and start massaging them gently.

"Here? As in here? In our house?"

His mouth hovered over my skin, lips pressing a soft kiss on my shoulders. Why was he being so gentle, treating me like I was fragile? I frowned and he smiled, eyeing me a moment, then moving away to grab me my cup of tea.

"Yes darling, in our house."

I was torn between pulling him over me and reprimanding him for his teasing, but then he leaned forward, placed my finger over his on the cup, and kissed me. Soft and breathing me in, his lips lingered upon my forehead, and again, before I could reach for him, he was pulling away.

"You're remarkably relaxed about this," I said carefully, trying to tiptoe the line he'd drawn. He hummed as though understanding, then directed me to settle my back to the bed with a hand at my waist. As I moved up the mattress, he pulled the blankets over my bare legs.

"I nearly lost you. They did too," he said, and a rough exhale left him as he scrubbed his hands over his face, then carefully folded his large frame onto the bed beside my knees."You wouldn't wake up, they had to put IVs to make sure you weren't dehydrated or malnutritioned."

Surprised by his admission I leaned back trying to read his tight expression and I swallowed thickly, not remembering much, but enough of the tingling desperation that had radiated from me, the flood from that broken organ inside me, to know I never wanted to relive this. The shadows from that night were still slithering around like dark tentacles that reached out to grip my soul.

I wasn't sure what to say to his silence, so I said nothing as I took a sip of the magical concoction.

The haunted look he wore when I woke up overpowered the friendly, but disconnected, smile he gave me. A knot lodged in my throat as I imagined the emotions he was going through right now... a heavy dose of guilt, concern, worry, and fear.

Before I could build on that, Taimoor's phone rang and he shot me a look and I told myself not to read too much into it.

"It's Zeenia. She's been calling ten times a day to check up on you."

"Does she know?"

He nodded. "Yes..."

"Answer it, I'm sure there's a lot to sort out."

"I don't want to, you just woke up..."

"Answer it, she needs your input," unnerved and a little startled by the clarity in my head, I started to get out of the bed, nearly falling at the first attempt. He helped me stand, and though my knees quaked, each step was a little easier as we headed to the giant bathroom and I closed the door behind me.

I heard the low rumble of his voice as he answered the call, and I couldn't help but smile to myself as I dropped the clothes I was wearing.

God, I needed to shower.

I carefully navigated my stiff limbs to the shower and grabbed the few necessities. Stepping underneath the spray, the warmth of the water against my skin was so welcome that I nearly purred. I knew that this whole exercise was going to exhaust me, but I was adamant to not look like a resurrected corpse, and that included taking a long shower, completing all the steps of my neglected skincare routine, and putting on something other than the t-shirt I was in.

I almost shed a tear when I bypassed the worn cotton shirt and chose the silk negligee that barely covered my ass. I smiled, shifting my arms into the straps of the clean blue nightgown. I'd never gotten to wear it during our brief honeymoon. Fitting that I would wear it today, signalling a fresh start.

Running the comb through my hair, I stared at my partially gaunt reflection. I wasn't naïve enough to believe that all of this had happened due to Taimoor's brush with death. I'd started to fade the moment I'd walked out of Mughal House.

A month.

He had given me a month to have my space.

We all needed time. Time to heal. Time to grieve. Time to figure our shit out. Time to cope. Was that enough time for him and I? More than enough. That time had done nothing to dull the ache I felt for Taimoor - and it was an agonizing sort of pain. The kind that tore you up and spit you back out.

I knew I'd never be the same. That I'd never feel the same.

It wasn't just the need to find comfort or companionship but the need to be close to him. To climb inside of his skin and never come out. To etch myself in his veins until my name was written in his blood. To brand him with my touch the same way he had branded me. To be as necessary to him as oxygen. To make him love me as much as I loved him, my hopeful brain conjuring a vision of a million nights just like this.

Taimoor and I, in our home together.

My noise and warmth filling the house where chilly silence used to be, rebuilding and changing our legacy. Making it bigger and better, together.

Having a family.

A tear slipped down my cheek, my heart softened, warmed, and I clasped my hand in mine over my chest.

We had a long road ahead of us, but we'd do it.

When I came out, the heavy black drapes were half-drawn, small streams of daylight splashing in slivers across the room.

"Are you alright? Should I come and help?" taking my hands, he steadied me on my feet, then lowered the billowing nightgown with two careful tugs and shifted it into place. The brushing of his roughened fingers over my skin, the heat of him at my back, circling and caging me, had me nearly pleading for him to rip it off.

"No-" perceptive as always, his mouth breathed in my ear. "Later."

"Daania, how are you feeling?" I jumped when Zeenia's voice crackled over the phone. My wide eyes shot to Taimoor, who just mouthed, 'audio.'

"Everyone's overreacting, I'm fine-"

"Is that Daania?" Taimoor rolled his eyes at Affandi's sudden interruption but chose not to comment. "How are you feeling Dany? You gave us quite a scare!"

"Much better," the smile on my face wasn't the least bit contrived.

"Must be all those heroic hormones. Saving the company, saving Taimoor... you must feel like-"

"Like I need a break," I answered ending up sitting on a low sofa near the coffee table. Taimoor piled food on a plate and pushed it to me.

"Oh yeah, that's true. Sorry, we were planning on visiting today... we can reschedule though," I pushed the food to the side and grabbed a cushion. Before I could lie down, Taimoor pushed the plate back in front of me.

I glared at his insistence but forced myself to take a bite. "No no, come over."

"Great, Zohra misses her momani," Affandi continued oblivious of my divided attention.

"Okay, let's not exhaust her too much," Zeenia spoke up then, and I was startled to attention."Daania, are you still here?"

"Yes."

"Good, then maybe you can help me convince your husband that stepping down as a Mughal Co.'s CEO would only do more harm than good."

Taimoor looked at the phone as if he were physically considering pulling Zeenia out of it, and perhaps he was.

"What?"

"It's still under discussion," my eyes narrowed, and Taimoor studied me, then sighed.

"Taimoor I understand your guilt. I get what you're doing. But none of this is your fault!"

"He was our blood. Our uncle. Our grandfather's mistake. We have the same blood," he moved closer to the phone, and his tone verged on a plea.

"Choice. Your grandfather's choice. My cousin tried to rape me," I countered, a warning veiled as a carefully crafted argument. "He kidnapped me and tried to burn me alive. If it wasn't for you, I would have died."

"Scorpio told me what you did to him," Taimoor's focus shifted to me, or more specifically, to my hand resting on top of his and the emerald ring he'd given me, not meeting my gaze. My heartbeat went erratic.

"We don't have control over the actions of others. I couldn't control or be held responsible for Ghazanfar's actions, and he is my father's blood! How could you blame yourself for your grandfather's choices?"

"So those three people aren't important?"

"Those three people are important and always will be, but what good will you stepping down make? More chaos? More confusion? And who is going to take your place?" Zeenia jumped in, irritation lacing her voice.

"You."

"No," the firm response from Zeenia left no room for an argument.

"What do you mean no? It's my fault we're stuck in this mess. What Daada Jaan did... If it hadn't been for the stock plummeting, I was ready to appoint Zeenia the new CEO of Mughal Co," he lifted his eyes to mine, and they were haunting.

It added to the turmoil swirling inside me, but he'd said it with such finality, it sounded like the end. And I wasn't ready for this to end. For Badar to win.

"What?"

"I built this company because of you. I did what I had to do, to support you. I will not take charge of a company that rightfully belongs to you. There's a difference between the two Taimoor," his sister fired back. "He chose to do what he did and his choice affected three people. You stepping down as the CEO because you feel like you don't deserve to sit on that seat? That choice is going to affect thousands," she ended with a frustrated breath leaving her lips.

"For the first time in my life I was ready to walk away from all of this," his lip curled up in a sneer. "Maybe Mughal men should be contained before they cause any more damage. I was ready to take a step back."

"Is that what you want?" I chimed in.

"Wasn't that what you wanted?" at that annoyingly unyielding stare that he'd apparently perfected, even now, I shook my head.

"I want you to be happy. You're the happiest when you're creating when you're doing something you love," his intense gaze swept over me. "You love this company Taimoor. It doesn't matter how it came into your life, it's yours. Both of you own it. If Zeenia wants to be an active CFO she should be. Do it only if you want to. Not because of what it should be."

"And what about the Badar's of this world? How could you stand to even say this after all that you've witnessed?" there wasn't an easy answer to my husband's simplistic questions.

"What have I witnessed? An egomaniac who tried to hold me and you hostage? Who tried to kill you? Tried to take over the company?" I started, steady yet my breath quaked. Taimoor immediately wrapped his arms around me, pulling me into his warmth.

"What if Badar wasn't the only one? What if-?"

"And what if he was? What if it was a one-time thing? I'm not defending your grandfather, but giving up the company you've poured your life and soul into... the company that saved you from your darkness, at a time when you needed stability and purpose in your life? Is giving it up the right way to go?"

It likely felt like a lifetime ago to Taimoor. He was a man who craved control over all things, and he'd been forced to give it away, forced to watch from the sidelines as the demons of his family's past came and tried to wrestle it away from him. He looked mortal, breakable. He was a man on the road to right the wrongs of his family, and he was determined to win.

"She's right Taimoor."

"Bury him next to his father. He deserves that," I compromised, placing my hand on his shoulder, willing him to understand.

We did what we had to for love.

"What? Next to Daada Jaan's grave?"

"Yes," Taimoor agreed, understanding sparking through his eyes.

"No one knows about Badar and to be fair, I don't think anyone will. This secret is safe with us," Zeenia said just as Taimoor opened his mouth to say something. "We'll make sure we offer his mother whatever she wants. Reconciliation, comfort, whatever she wants. But I'd doubt she'd want to stay connected to the Mughal name in any way."

"Secrecy is what got us to this place," he said, and a rough exhale left him as he scrubbed his hands over his face, then carefully folded his large frame onto the chair beside my knees.

"And what would acknowledgment do? How would that help?"

"It would-"

"Only put light on things that were deliberately put into the dark," I interjected.

"I don't want something that's built on lies. The company wasn't built by following the rules, but there are some lines that you don't cross," unperturbed by Zeenia's impending outburst, Taimoor rubbed his chin and threw his knee over his leg."I want to do the right thing."

I knew he did, but not this way. "You are. You're going to make sure nothing like this happens ever again."

"We'll make sure to hire someone to see if there are any other Mughals running around," he said. "This stays between the three of us. No one else, only us."

"Till the grave," his sister promised.

"And after," I completed.

The line disconnected and before I even had the chance to brace myself, he shot toward me, impossibly fast, and the cushion behind me melted into my spine. He took hold of my wrists, pinning them hard against his chest. Hot breaths beat against my skin. He remained motionless. Just breathing. Deep and heavy breaths, a testament that we were both still very much alive.

That we'd survived.

"Why did you wear this?" to feel normal.

"You were treating me like a doll," Taimoor's brows rose, his smile twitching with both anger and humor. "I'm not some breakable fragile doll."

"Oh I know," he stroked a hand down my hair and gripped tight, tipping my head back for a kiss. Nothing more than a simple kiss, and yet, my stomach fluttered as if he'd shot a cannon of butterflies into me. "Why did you do it?"

The answer was simple enough, but his question left me in a state of perplexing emotion.

I didn't know how to feel.

I wanted to be tough and tell him to go to hell for asking such a stupid question, but both of us had already been there and back. "What do you mean, why?"

"You damned your company by involving it with mine. Even now you're protecting me, gambling with your future."

"And you wouldn't have done this for me?"

"In a heartbeat," he lifted his head from my neck and muttered, gripping my chin. "But this is you. Not me."

Something cold and dark stirred inside of me. A bitterness that had no place here in this moment, but I couldn't swallow it back. I couldn't tamp it down. Too many pent-up emotions clashed inside my head at the same time.

"I-"

"They won't forget this. I fired four of the board members, I'm sure there were more. They survive in packs, these men. We've got a lot of work to do. They'll try to tear you apart. They'll wait for the perfect moment to strike and they'll try to come after you for this," he spoke so calmly, that it took everything in me not to grab the first thing I saw and haul it at his beautiful damn head. "We don't even know if Badar was the last of it."

"I've dealt with people like this my whole life. And you know what? Whatever they throw at me, I'll throw it back ten times harder. We do this together Taimoor. We make and we change the rules."

He rubbed his hand down his face, drawing my attention to the muscles in his arms. How badly I wanted, needed, to be wrapped in them. To feel that reassuring embrace.

"I don't care about the company Daania, I care about you. I care about becoming the man you can be proud of. Of someone who is as selfless as you," Taimoor gave a self-deprecating chuckle. "I would walk away right now if it meant that you'd see me like this-" I shook my hands away from his hold and placed a finger on his lips.

"I'm pretty selfish when it comes to you. I can't see anything past you," I whispered. "I couldn't stand it if you gave up the company to try and become this imaginary better man. You are the man I want, the only man I'll ever want and I would never want that to change. There's no question about it."

"You're-"

"You know what I've gone through these past weeks?" I hated that my eyes stung with tears, that I risked breaking into emotion when the anger and frustration sizzled inside of me. "I would wake up, searching for you in the dark. Searching for the reassurance that it was nothing but a nightmare, that life hadn't just handed me a death sentence. And that night for those endless minutes and seconds, an eternity for me, I suffered the incapacitating reality that you were really gone."

As if I'd slapped him with a realization he hadn't considered, he flinched. Even as I stared back at him, standing in the middle of the room, I could feel that same anxiety wash over me, the fear that had become as much a part of me for those few agonizing minutes. Weeks of misery tore from my chest on a sob, and as my knees turned weak with the pain, he reached out and lifted me into his arms.

For the first time in weeks, I felt weightless. The warmth and strength I'd mourned for far too long somehow seeped beneath my skin. Like stepping out into the sunlight again after hours and days of absolute darkness. I tightened my grip around him, and the trembles in my body from before turned into full-blown shivering. Not from cold, but fear. The stifling fear that he could slip from my grasp at any second had me clutching to him like a child.

It took Taimoor's absence, the thought of living without him, watching him fall before my eyes, to realize just how much I loved him. And how absolutely devastating and vulnerable the heart could be.

"I had no other choice," I hardened my jaw, stubborn and unmoved in my decision. It was my company to give up, my choice to bind myself with him. Not his. "You saved me, I've saved you. I'd say we're even."

Finger hooked beneath my chin, he lifted my face to his, and my scowl dissolved as I stared into fierce grey eyes. "I never wanted you to leave, Daania. Letting you leave was the hardest thing I've ever had to do. Standing there watching you get in the car nearly killed me. Not hearing your voice, not having you in my bed, beside me..." his eyes fluttered shut for a moment. "I can't tell you how much I've missed your touch, your voice, you," lowering my hand to his lips, he kissed the inside of my wrist. "There is nothing worse than being apart from you."

Frenzied and desperate warm lips hunted my throat, and he grazed his teeth over the crook of my collarbone, the sensation rendering me dizzy. He dragged his nose along the edge of my neck, smelling me. Rough fingers sank into my hair, holding me as if I had any inclination to escape him, and he seized my lips. Neither gentle nor sweet, he kissed me like he was starved.

Frantic.

Hungry for me.

We ended up on the bed. I didn't know how and I didn't care.

I kissed him back with the same vindictive force, taking his lip between my teeth and biting down. Digging my nails into his scalp, his shoulders bunched beneath my hands, muscles shaking with tension.

Palm to my throat, he squeezed just enough to part my lips. "I thought I'd lost you."

"So did I," I rasped.

He held me closer, one hand at my throat, the other hiking my thigh up onto his hip, lips against my throat. The fullness of him rolled against me and coupled with the dizzying lack of oxygen it made for a deliciously toxic mix.

"You left me."

"Never. Never," my breath hitched in my chest with the merciless thrust of his hips. "I will always come back to you. Always."

Releasing my throat, he wrapped my legs around his waist and held me pinned to the bed. "Can't stop..."

"I know," I tipped my head back, focusing on the tiny sparks of electricity that warmed me from the inside out.

It had been so long.

"What now?" the question was barely a whisper. The implication was too heavy to be said aloud. What now indeed? What of us? What about our future?

"I suspect you know what I want," his tone was casual as if he didn't really care, but I heard the passion, the want, the need beneath it. "You, here, for as long as you'll have me."

"I love you," my lips wobbled, my body trembled.

His froze just as his eyes locked onto mine, and the power of his stare leveled me. "Say that again."

"I love you, I'm in love with you," I grabbed at his cheeks, fingers desperate for his rumbling laughter beneath me, that smile. The words trembled out of me, over and over until I couldn't breathe unless I said them to his mouth.

I kissed him. Gently, reverently, my fingers splayed over his heart. A heart. A heart and soul that had been slow to warm, to learn, and to love. The kiss was slow and luxurious like we had all the time in the world, and Taimoor let me guide it.

I brushed my nose across his, loving the way his eyes fluttered close before opening again. My beast spread his lips into a smile so dazzling, so sincere, the largest I'd ever seen him wear, that I found myself saying so again just to keep it there. "I am completely, truly, and maddeningly in love with you, Taimoor Ali Haider Mughal."

Taimoor buried his face in my hair taking a long, deep breath and then kissing me there until I squirmed underneath him. He chuckled darkly against my skin, and I pretended to be annoyed by shoving half-heartedly at his chest. That smile stretched, then fell a little with a breathy laugh. "Again."

"Now you're just being greedy," I laughed then, brushing the stubble on his cheek, desire zinging up my spine.

"You love me," his lips curled higher, exposing a flash of teeth. Unfettered, undiluted, unprecedented happiness.

I melted even while trying to resist doing so. "Yes. I do."

"Love is a small word for what I feel," he sprawled himself beside me, head propped on his hand and that maddening grin still in place, his hand on my leg. "You're my everything little dragon. My heart wouldn't beat without you."

Golden affection, the likes of which had taken me time to absorb, to realize what it was that shined in his eyes when he gazed at me like that, sank inside my chest. Only he saw the real me, and I saw the real him, and I loved that about us.

Was it possible to feel too much love? To die from the pressure of a chest so full, so completely whole? As if my heart had been stitched back together with thicker threads, beating inside of me again. More powerful than before.

"It will never have to," I rasped, my smile shaking. I gestured for him to move closer so I could smooth the creases from between his brows.

His eyes shuttered.

He was mine and I was his for the end of our lives. I was made for him. Made to weather his storms, to fight his demons just like he was made for me. Made to soothe the chaos in my head, to calm the turmoil in my heart. I laughed giddy, rolling out into his arms. He caught me, held me close, fingers rubbing over my back, into my hair, and his mouth upon my forehead.

It was one of those moments that made my heart feel like it was going to explode out of my chest. I was happy with him, and I knew he'd stay by my side for as long as we lived.

I'd never felt a love so great. I'd never even known a love so great was possible outside of fairy tales and myths.

Because that's exactly what this was.

Love.

Can't eat, can't sleep, can't breathe without you, love. Your smile lights up my world, and your arms feel like home, love. I could stand here all day and watch you do the most mundane task without ever getting bored love. Will grow old with you, fight battles with you, climb mountains, and cross oceans kind of love.

The ache in my chest throbbed, as tears gathered in my eyes. Face buried in my neck, he wrapped his arms around me, so tight, I could scarcely draw in a calm breath. Within minutes, I drifted near blessed sleep, lulled by the comforting cadence of the beat within the unearthed heart of my sweet beast. We'd be together until the end of time, a love of mythic proportions, that, despite all odds, had avoided a tragic end.

Ours was the only love story in the myths that I believed had a happy ending.

He was mine. This beautiful, intelligent, grouchy, and loyal, beast of a man was mine. Wholly and solely mine.

And my body, heart, and soul were his. His to break, his to keep safe, his to love, his to own - forever.

- For the ones who dare to dream.

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