197
Emilia’s POV.
I curled up on the couch, a blanket draped over my legs as I wondered about all the things we’ve come across about my mother. All the puzzles that only made my head go crazy instead of giving answers to all the questions I had. The air was quiet and still, save for the occasional crackle of the fire from the fireplace.
Alaric sat across from me, a glass of whiskey in his hand, staring into the flames. His expression was unreadable, but I could see the tension in his shoulders and the way his fingers tightened slightly around the glass. He’d been quiet all evening, and that silence had stretched between us like a taut string, ready to snap.
I didn’t press him. Not yet. Alaric was like a storm-you had to feel out the winds before stepping into the tempest. Instead, I let the quiet settle, taking slow sips of tea and letting the warmth seep into my hands.
Finally, he spoke, his voice low and rough. “I can’t stop thinking about how close I came to losing you.”
I looked up, startled by the rawness in his tone. His gaze was still on the fire, but I knew his mind was somewhere else entirely.
“You didn’t lose me,” I reminded him softly, setting my mug down on the coffee table.
He shook his head, a bitter smile tugging at his lips. “I almost did. Twice now. First when Alonso took you and then-when you left to see him.”
The last part hit harder than I expected, guilt threading through my chest. “Alaric…”
He turned to me then, his eyes dark and searching. “Do you have any idea what that did to me, Emilia? Having to head from Allesio that you were gone and you went willingly. Having to wonder if I’d ever see you again, if you’d ever come back to me. Do you have any idea what that did to me?”
I swallowed hard, the weight of his words sinking in. “I didn’t mean to hurt you,” I said quietly. “I just… I needed answers.”
“And what about me?” he demanded, his voice rising slightly before he caught himself. “What about us? Did you think about what it would do to me if something happened to you? If you didn’t come back? Did you even think of Francesca? Of how she’d feel if she thought her mother had left her again?”
I flinched at the raw emotion in his words. “I thought I was doing the right thing,” I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper. “I thought I needed to face it on my own.”
“You don’t have to do everything alone, Emilia.” His tone softened, but the intensity in his eyes remained. “You don’t have to handle this shit by yourself. That’s what I’m here for. To help you, to protect you.”
I hesitated, the words catching in my throat. “I know you want to protect me, but… I’ve spent my whole life trying to be strong, trying to prove I can stand on my own. It’s hard to let that go.”
His gaze softened, and he leaned forward, setting his glass on the table. “You don’t have to let it go,” he said. “But you can share it. You can let me in.”
I looked at him, my heart tightening at the vulnerability in his expression. Alaric has always been strong and cold, yes, I knew that. But right now I could see the cracks the love. The fear. The doubt.
“I’m here, Alaric,” I said, my voice steady. “I’m not going anywhere.”
He let out a slow breath, leaning back in his chair. “I know you mean that, but it doesn’t stop the fear. Every time I close my eyes, I see you disappearing again, and I can’t-” He broke off, running a hand through his hair.
I stood, crossing the room to him. Sitting down beside him, I reached for his hand, lacing my fingers through his. “I’m here,” I repeated, squeezing his hand gently. “And I’m not disappearing again. I promise.”
His jaw clenched, and he turned his gaze to mine. “You don’t know what it’s like to feel powerless,” he said, his voice low. “To know you’d burn the world down for someone but still not be able to save them.”
I swallowed hard, my chest tightening at his words. I knew exactly how he felt. I felt the same way when the parents I knew died. I felt the same way when I found out Matteo had a disease and I didn’t have the money to pay for his treatment. I felt the same way when I I watched Alaric get shot that day I was taken.
“I do,” I said quietly, surprising even myself. “I know what it’s like to feel helpless. To want to fight but not know where to start.”
He studied me for a long moment, the firelight dancing in his eyes. “Then you know why I can’t lose you,” he said finally. “Not again.”
I nodded, my throat tightening. “And you won’t. I won’t let you,” I assured him. “And I won’t let anyone take me from you. I will always be here with you, Alaric. Whether you want that or not.”
For a moment, we both didn’t say anything. We just sat in the silence, me lost in mb own thoughts and h6um lost in his head. I rested my head on his shoulder, feeling the tension in his body slowly ease.
“You’re the most stubborn woman I’ve ever met,” he muttered after a while, a hint of a smile in his voice.
I laughed softly. “And you’re the most stubborn man. I guess that makes us even.”
He chuckled, the sound low and warm. “Even, huh?”
“More or less,” I teased, tilting my head to look up at him.
His gaze softened, and he leaned down, pressing a gentle kiss to my forehead. “I’m serious, Emilia. Don’t scare me like that again.”
“I’ll do my best,” I promised, though we both knew I couldn’t guarantee anything.