Sweet Hatred Chapter 424: In this life and the next

The air left my lungs in a violent, soundless rush. Not crying... this was sothing else, sothing breaking apart inside my chest. My body shook with the force of it, a tremor so deep I felt my joints might give way.

I fisted my hands in Kael’s shirt, clinging, my knuckles bleaching white. The ground was gone. He was the only thing holding to the earth.

"I’m sorry." The words were shredded things, torn from a raw throat. "I’m so—Kael, I’m so sorry."

"Don’t." His reply was a reflex, sharp, almost a flinch. His palms cradled my face, his touch so careful it fractured further. "Don’t you apologize for her."

"It is my fault." The confession erupted, a flood I couldn’t dam. "All of it. If I had never walked into your world... she never would have touched you. You never would have had to—"

"Stop." His voice was low, a tremor running beneath its steel. His thumbs swept over my cheeks, saring the hot tracks of new tears. "Aria... If I could go back to the very start, knowing everything that happened would happen... I would still choose you. Without a second thought."

He wasn’t just looking at . He was seeing straight through the wreckage, into the broken parts of .

"In this life," he whispered, the words rough, sacred, "and in the next. And in the one after the stars burn out. When there’s nothing left of us but dust and mory, I would find you. I would know you. I would choose you."

His words broke .

Not in a pretty way. It was a total structural collapse, there in the cage of his hands. Because he ant it. I could see the truth of it etched into the lines of his face, a devotion so absolute it felt like the first and last law of any world.

"I’m sorry," I whispered again, a broken record, the only words I had."Please forgive Kael."

He pulled into him then, crushing against his chest, tucking my head beneath his chin like he could absorb my shattering into his own body. His arms were iron bands, his breath hot and unsteady against my temple. I felt the fine vibration in his muscles, the desperate control it took to hold so tightly without hurting .

I didn’t let go. I held on through the long, dark hours, our bodies tangled on the bed, two separate fractures trying to knit into a single, stronger whole.

Every ti I stirred, a faint sound of distress, his hand would press into my back—a silent, frantic question. Are you still here?

When the knock ca, he went still. His fingers lingered on my spine before he reluctantly untangled himself. The space where he’d been was instantly cold, a void that ached.

He brought the tray over and set it beside with a reverence that hurt to watch. Soup. Bread. Simple, gentle food. He watched as I slowly lifted a spoonful to my lips, his entire being focused on the movent. The broth was warm. It didn’t revolt my stomach. For the first ti in days, it stayed settled.

A ragged breath left him. "That’s good," he murmured, his voice thick. His fingers brushed my cheek. "That’s so good, firefly."

I ate with him chanically, the food ash in my mouth, my mind circling the horrible, brutal truth.

Sarah. Drugging him. Touching him while he was helpless.

Because of .

The mory of Cain’s broken body flashed behind my eyes, another life destroyed by her.

And then, a shift. Deep in my gut, the crushing guilt began to crystallize. It hardened, transford, ignited into a rage so pure and cold it stole my breath.

Fury. For what she did to him. For her hands on his skin when he couldn’t fight. For every lie she’d ever told with a smile.

The trembling in my hands stopped. A terrible, focused stillness settled in its place.

I don’t know when I finally slept. Consciousness returned slowly, the room bathed in the deep blue of late night. The city lights were a distant, hazy galaxy. And he was still there. His arms were locked around , one hand moving in slow, restless circles on my back, as if mapping my existence through touch.

I stirred, my lips brushing his skin. "You need to sleep..."

His answer was a raw whisper in the dark. "I can’t. Every ti I close my eyes... I’m afraid I’ll open them and you’ll be a ghost."

The words lanced through , a pain so acute it was almost sweet. I pushed up, my hand finding his jaw, forcing his haunted gaze to et mine.

"I am not leaving." I breathed the words against his lips, my forehead pressed to his. "Not this ti. Never again."

His eyelids lowered, a shadow of old pain crossing his features. "You said that before." It wasn’t an accusation. It was the sound of a man rembering how to bleed.

"I know." I held his face, letting him feel the solid truth of . "And I broke that promise. But I am here now. And nothing... not Sarah, not your father, not my own fear... will ever make leave you again. Do you hear ? Nothing."

His eyes searched mine, diving deep, looking for the crack, the flaw, the escape route. He found none.

He moved so fast it stole my breath, pulling up until I was straddling his lap, and then his mouth was on mine. It wasn’t gentle. It was a claiming, a sealing of a vow, desperate and deep and tasting of salt and forever. When he finally pulled away, we were both breathless.

He tucked back into the shelter of his body, his chin resting on my head, his arms so tight around it was almost pain.

"Sleep," he murmured into my hair. "I’ll be here when you wake."

"Promise?" The word was small, a child’s question.

His arms tightened further. "I promise."

So I closed my eyes. And for the first ti in an eternity, the darkness was quiet. There was no falling. There was only his heartbeat against my ear, his breath in my hair, his arms as the only walls I needed.

I was ho.