When Ash Falls (London Fairy Tales #4)(53)
Author: Rachel Van Dyken

“She did,” Ash croaked. “She ran to me just as a carriage made its way toward her… It wasn’t until later we discovered that her murder was all an evil plan from a man we had once trusted, a man who also had once worked for the Crown. But the fault still lies with me. If I had listened to Hunter, I would not have been in the street.”

Sofia tilted her head. “She would still have died?”

“Most likely.”

“So you still blame yourself for her death?” She studied his face as though to glean her answers in that manner. “Or do you simply enjoy punishing yourself for your brother’s grief?”

Ash sighed. “I punished myself because I loved her… I loved her more than my brother, and I was ashamed, so ashamed that it was he that proved stronger than I. How could I show my face when I helped cause her death? How could I face my brother when he knew I loved her as I did?”

“And now?”

“Now, she is… a fond memory… a ghost that I sometimes still see in the shadows… but not my memory, not my ghost.”

“The scar…” Sofia traced it with her fingertip, causing a shudder to ripple through his body.

“A reminder of my sins. At the time, I had no knowledge of the true reason behind her death. I simply wanted an easy way out. Grief and rage blinded me… jealousy whispered in my ear that it was better this way, better to die with her, better to leave the earth, rid it of my sin.”

“So the greatest assassin known to London failed when the price was too high? When it counted most?”

“Yes,” he whispered. “And because I was reborn that day, because death refused me, I took on death’s name.”

“The Grimm Reaper.”

“Has a nice ring to it.” The joke was forced as was his chuckle. He hated revealing his darkness to her, hated that knowing the full extent of his sins, she could very well walk away, and he wouldn’t — couldn’t — blame her for doing so.

“Death…” Sofia ran her delicate fingers across his jaw. “…has a way of affecting us all. Whether planned or not, expected or unexpected, it still hurts, we still bleed, we still suffer.”

Ash wanted to hang his head, to turn away from her loving touch. If she left him, it would destroy him from the inside out — but he could not blame her.

“But life,” Sofia continued, caressing him. “It breathes newness where death only leaves dry bones. A part of you died that day, Ash, right along with her, as I’m sure a part of Hunter did as well. But you survived — despite it all, you survived — and you’ve been given a choice.”

“I have?”

“Yes.” She smiled brightly. “Keep living… or give up.”

“Things are not always so black and white, love.”

“The human condition complicates things because we believe life must be exactly that — complicated. Do you love me?”

“Wh-what?” he sputtered, his eyebrows pinching together. “More—” He croaked. “—more than words could ever say. I am not a man of great speeches. I am not Hunter—”

“Thank God for that.” She winked, her mouth curving upward into a saucy grin.

“But…” He licked his lips and focused in on her eyes rather than her mouth. “…whether or not I’m an assassin, a killer… I love you. I imagine my heart has been out of my possession for quite some time.”

“Since I opened my mouth?” She smirked.

Ash leaned in, kissing her cheek. “Since I saw but a glimpse of your face… I was lost, and when you opened that saucy mouth, I was already drowning, powerless to stop the waves from overtaking me, and not caring that they did.”

The light in her eyes danced, and her lips twitched with mirth. “That was quite romantic for a killer.”

“Yes, well…” He glanced away and then back again. “…we all have our moments, I expect.”

“So that’s it then.” Sofia blinked innocently.

“What’s it?”

“That.”

“I believe I’m lost.”

“You love me. I love you. We shall be married.”

“Doesn’t one need to be asked first?” he teased. “And how do you figure it is that simple?”

“Love doesn’t have to be complicated. Men, always trying to complicate things.”

“Women,” he grumbled. “Always trying to fix them.”

“I think we have that backward.” Her soft laugh washed over him, a balm to his soul.

“Are you calling me a woman?”

“That depends. Are you calling me a man?”

He gazed at her mouth. “Devil take me, I could no more tease about you being a man than me being patient.”

“Who said anything about patience?”

“I did…” Ash gripped her shoulders and tugged her against his body. “…because I damn-well don’t want to wait until a wedding to ravish my bride.”

“Are you finally asking?”

“Are you accepting?”

“Ask.”

“Just accept, darling. You know you want to.”

Her giggle was like a thousand tiny bells. “Killers, so romantic.”

Ash grinned, tipping her chin toward his lips. “Be my wife, not because you’re forced to, but because you want to, because I cannot live — refuse to go through my lonely existence — without the sun by my side.”

A rosy blush suffused her cheeks. “I’m the sun?”

“More than that.” Ash sighed. “You’re the light in my darkness, the hope I’ve been searching for, for ten years.”

“Make love to me.”

“Amazing, and all I needed to do was use pretty words.”

“No…” Sofia brushed a kiss across his lips. “…all you needed to do was admit it.”

“Admit what?”

“That you can’t live without me.”

“I’d think it was quite obvious that I would be dead without you.”

As if suddenly remembering he was injured, she pulled back and winced. “Do the wounds hurt?”

“Yes.” Ash nodded emphatically. “In fact, if you could just rub your hands across my naked skin, I would feel so much better.”

Her eyes narrowed.

“Common war practice.” He coughed. “Do you feel that chill? Better shrug out of your gown and lie down next to me. We don’t want me catching a chill and dying.”