Gillian

“Did you love him? Violet, you have to tell me.” The sharp edge of desperation in his voice does me in. “Not the way I love you,” I admit softly. He retreats until his ass hits my desk, then stares at the floor. “You loved him.” “I was eighteen.” I search my memories, trying to think of a better word to describe what I’d felt for Halden, but come up blank. “We were only together about seven months—a little before his Conscription Day until December. I was infatuated and enamored, and at the time, that rush of utter beguilement was what I knew of love. So yes, I loved him.” He grips the edge of the desk, and his knuckles pale. “Fuck. And he’s going with us. I caught that, too.” “Yes. And I get it.” I cross the distance between us. “It’s really hard for me to see you anywhere near Cat—” “I never loved Cat.” Xaden’s head whips up. “Sure, the idea of”—he swallows like he might puke—“Halden putting his hands on you makes me want to put him back into the wall, especially given the fact that he can touch you and I can’t, but knowing he’s been here—” Xaden puts his hand just beneath my collarbone. “Has me considering murder so there’s no chance of him worming his royal ass back in.” “He can’t touch me.” I lift his hand and press a kiss to the center of his callused palm before putting it back above my heart and holding it there. “This will only ever be yours. You could leave me or even meet Malek, and it still would be. I’ve made my peace with knowing there’s no getting over you.”
― Rebecca Yarros, Onyx Storm