Aster choked. Fear echoed from her depths. From the dark places I wondered if she’d ever fully allow me to go. “He’s coming to his end, Logan. He thinks we’re playing him a fool, and there is nothing that he cares about more than his pride.”
“That’s exactly what we’re doing, Aster. We’re playing him the fool because that is what he is.”
And if the fucker came anywhere near her again? Hewouldmeet his end.
My palm splayed over the side of her head, and my fingers weaved into her hair. “We almost have him, Aster. I can feel it. We just need a little time. And during then, I don’t want you out anywhere without me. Do you understand?”
“Logan—”
I cut her off with an anguished kiss.
Praying she would get it. What she meant to me. The terror I possessed at the thought of her being harmed.
Slowing it, I dropped my forehead to hers. “Please, Aster, I couldn’t bear it if something happened to you.”
Desperation fueled her voice. “I can’t remain a prisoner to him any longer, Logan. I won’t.”
My thumb stroked her chin. “No, Little Star, you are no prisoner. You are free in me.”
THIRTY-ONE
ASTER
Recklessly in love…
My sweet, wonderful secret.
My defender.
My lover.
My North Star.
My beautiful boy who crash-landed in a foreign land where he didn’t belong.
Maybe it was a rescue mission. Your descent into enemy lines to rescue a prisoner who was being held against her will.
But was I really an outlander if I had been born within the confines of those walls? If that tainted blood was what supplied my life?
But somewhere along the way, it was you who became the supplier. The lifebeat that pounded within me.
You stood for me. Fought for me. Then you loved me beneath the expanse of hidden stars.
The very next day, I crept into my papa’s office, my knees knocking but my chin lifted high. “I won’t marry Jarek, Papa, I won’t,” I’d said.
Papa scoffed, barely glancing my way as he studied the paper in his hand. “Do not start, Aster. You know your purpose. Your role in this family. You will honor it.”
“He’s a bad man.” It came like supplication.
Papa’s brow furled. “We are all bad men, mia vita, but Jarek Urso will respect you. Care for you. Protect you and this family. And one day, when your uncle Antonio and I are gone from this world, he will take the place as the head of this family, and you will sit at his side.”
I took a frantic step forward. “No, Papa, not all are bad.”
The air had shivered as he paused, and he turned to look at me with a face made of stone but with eyes that understood. “Your head has always been full of whimsy, Aster, but Jarek Urso is your fate. I pray you do not act so foolishly that I will have to do something that you and I will both regret.”
That regret was already written in the lines of his expression.
Telling.