“I can’t let you throw away your home in Heaven for me.” I needed her to understand. It wasn’t that I didn’t want her; it was that she could do so much better. “I couldn’t live with myself, Laila. You deserve better than me—someone whose soul doesn’t belong to Lucifer, who doesn’t have blood on his hands.”
“But I wantyou. All of you. I want your flaws and your mistakes. I want every imperfect piece of your heart. I wantyou, Joriel, and only you, for the rest of my life.”
“I’ll ruin you,” I whispered, feeling like I was seconds from losing my moral battle. I wanted to give in, to marry her, claim her as mine forever. I wanted it so bad I could taste it. “I’m not like you, Laila. I’m not selfless or good. I don’t see or bring out the best in people.”
“I don’t believe that you’ll ruin me. And just because you choose to see the worst in yourself doesn’t mean that’s the truth of who you are.”
“I enjoyed the tournament,” I said in a last-ditch effort to make her see the truth of what lurked under my skin. “I love the rush I get when I’m in the fight, when I give in to the violence. When I killed the human boy—finally gave in to my anger and let go—I’d never felt such euphoria. That’s who I am, snow angel. That’s what lurks inside me.”
She was quiet, her wide eyes studying me. I’d finally done it, broken her image of me and forced her to see the darkness inside my heart.
I held myself completely still, awaiting her verdict. Would she push me away? Tell me to leave and refuse to touch me? I watched her, waiting for the second my words truly sank in and disgust or horror filled her eyes.
She reached for my hand and brought it to her lips, pressing a kiss to my knuckles. I was too shocked to stop her, and my whole body shuddered at the contact.
“Thank you,” she said, her voice soft and not at all horrified.
“What the hell are you thanking me for?”
“For telling the truth and letting me see inside your heart and soul.”
“What are you thinking?” I needed to know more than I needed my next breath. I felt like I was standing on the edge of a cliff, waiting for her to push me off and sentence me to a life without her.
“That wrath is the sin that calls to you.”
“And?”
“And that doesn’t scare me. I know you would never hurt me. Whether you believe it or not, you’ve proven that time and time again. I see you, Joriel, and I love you despite all the things you seem to think make you unlovable.”
She stroked my jaw, and I couldn’t help leaning into her touch, craving it.
“I think mine’s gluttony, for the record,” she said. “That’s the sin that seems to call to me. Maybe that’s why Abadon and I got along so well. So the question is, does that make me unworthy of love and marriage? Did you want me less after the party at Abadon’s mansion?”
“No,” I snarled. “You could never be unworthy.”
She smiled. “I’m not trying to convince you to marry me. I just want you to think about it seriously instead of dismissing it as something you don’t deserve. Think about if you want to be with me with all of our flaws and imperfections.”
“I don’t need to think about it. My heart already belongs to you. I love you, Laila. I’minlove with you. Even though it terrifies me.”
“What are you saying?”
“That I want to love you for the rest of my life. That I want to give you everything you’ve ever desired. I want to be the one you call husband, and I want to make you mine. I want a life with you, more than I’ve ever wanted anything.”
Her smile was so brilliant it could have lit the darkest night. “I love you so much.”
“Does that mean you still want to marry me?”
She nodded, her eyes sparkling. “Yes.”
I buried my face against her neck while my body shook and my tears soaked her hair. I didn’t deserve her, but I was going to spend every second I had trying to.
TWENTY-FOUR
Laila
I staredat the dress in the mirror. It was the most beautiful article of clothing I’d ever seen. When I asked Roth for a wedding gown on no notice, I hadn’t been expecting much.
The dress was my signature burgundy with purple undertones and little pink and purple flowers embroidered on the sheer outer skirt. The fabric flowed over my skin like water, clinging to my curves before gradually flaring out from the midhip. There was no back, reminding me of the dress I’d worn as an attendant in God’s palace.
