Something was building, activating, like a volcano dormant from the outside, bubbling with lava, waiting for the right moment to erupt and cause destruction. She stood at the mouth of the volcano, watching the lava come forth from the mantle of the earth, knowing it could wreck her but waiting for it. She wanted to be the rain that fell upon the magma and sizzled, drenched it until it became rich. She wanted to seep down to his dried roots, nourish the soil of his heart, and fill him with life again.
"And in the end, we were all humans, drunk on the idea that love, only love, could heal our brokenness."
-Christopher Poindexter
A laugh bubbled up in his chest, trapping itself in his throat as he looked out the window and heard her prattle on. The urge to smile, to try and lift the scarred side of his mouth, was a new sensation. And that was the other reason he'd wanted to assuage his curiosity, right there. He couldn't remember the last time he'd wanted to smile before she jumped into his world, a burst of colorful explosions in the stark gray of his sky, a sprout of life blooming in the land of death, a festival in a field that had only witnessed funerals. And now that he'd experienced that, like an addict, he wanted more.
~Alpha
"I don't know how, rainbow," he murmured softly, "and I don't know what secrets of mine you have, but I want them all. You've sealed your fate now. Welcome to my hell."
🖤
"You're playing with the beast, little rainbow. I bite."
"I was hoping you would."
"I will scar you."
"I might want it."
🖤
"Be careful of the ways you offer yourself to me. They don't call me beast for nothing."
That was exactly who she wanted. "you're a twisted beast, I'm a twisted beauty. We're totally meant to be, handsome. It's written in the fairytales."
~The Finisher
🖤🌸
The dark in your soul is but a blemish. The dark in mine is an eclipse.
"Promise me something, Amara."
Amara opened her eyes to see the dark chocolate pools of his waiting for him to continue.
"If I ever lose my way, lose my soul to this place-" he told her, his eyes fierce-
"and become toxic to you or our children, promise me that you'll end me."
"Dante-"
"Promise me."
Her mouth trembled. "You won't. I won't let you."
He pressed his forehead to hers deeper, and they stayed silent. absorbing the dark drop of ink that swirled in their lives.
"You're my magnum opus, Amara," he told her, pressing his forehead against hers, a move that always brought the turmoil in him to a standstill. "And I'm your humble servant."
"No," she whispered, her words falling against his lips. "you are my emperor."
~The Emperor
🖤✨
In the moonlight, his dark eyes gleamed like uncut obsidian, born of flames, cooled in winds.
I know you keep wondering what your role will be order we have, Dante mused, looking at the boys. "You are a healer Amara. You are the lighthouse guiding these last souls to the shore.They need someone to guide them, someone who's
emotionally intelligent, strong enough to understand trauma and survival and still be light. That's you."
survival and still be light. That's you"
He turned his neck, piercing her with his dark eyes, his voice dripping with conviction. "We'll find more children, more young boys and girls, in different conditions. We don't know how many. They need to be rehabilitated. They'll need help- physically, which I can arrange, but also mentally, which is your forte. We can give them a chance at life Amara.--"
With his stubble that darkened his jaw, contrasting with his impeccably dressed body. Dante Maroni was a vision of masculine beauty and primitive badassery, with a dark gaze that missed nothing and a light smile that hid everything. He was contradictions and balances complimenting each other in one specimen, a slow, deceptive, undetectable poison to everyone except the people close to his heart. Small doses of him over the years had made her stronger, a resilient survivor.
"Marry me, Amara.
Be my wife, be my dirty girl, be mine. Give me your dreams and your nightmares, your pleasure and your pain, your fantasies and your fears. Give me everything. Be my queen outside, and my filthy firl inside."
And make me fucking yours, so everyone who looks at my ring knows I have you finally say yes, Amara."
"you should've known not to run from me, crazy girl. I would chase you to the ends of this world."
-Dante Maroni
"You didn't tell them about the baby"
His fingers brushed over her scars, his eyes going to her still-flat stomach.
"I don't want to share her yet."
Her heart fluttered "We don't know the gender yet"
He just shrugged bending to press his face to her gown, right over the baby "She's a fighter, a survivor like her momma. Aren't you, princess?"
🖤🌸
The strong don't have bleeding wounds. They have scars that heal.
He and I, we're doomed to bleed from a wound that will never heal.
Dante had never known softness and strength could coexist together in such balance before her. Despite being through everything she'd been through, walking through hell and fighting the demons in her mind. She still had a love for life that unmanned him. The most generous of hearts, the most steely of spines, Amara was a woman of beauty, a warrior of blood, a queen of scars.
🖤
But something was wrong. His eyes were too dark, too heavy. She'd spent enough time learning the browns in them-how the sunlight hit every fleck, turning them to burnished gold, how night made them black holes, sucking everything they saw into themselves. She knew his eyes like the scars on her wrists. Every little bit memorized, imprinted on her heart.
There wasn't much difference between true evil and true love. They snuck up on the vulnerable, gripped them by the throat, and left a realm of ruin behind.
-The Emperor
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