He took one step toward her, then another, until she had to tilt her chin up to meet his gaze.
"You think you can leave me?" The words weren't a question.
Daphne's throat went dry, but she held his gaze.
Alaric's hand rose, hovering near her cheek, then curling into a fist instead.
"Listen to me, Princess," he murmured, "I've kept the worst of myself from you. I've buried it since our marriage. Because I wanted to be gentle. Because you deserve better than the monster I can be."
He leaned closer, his breath hot against her ear.
"But make no mistake. If you try to run from me, if you try to vanish, I will find you. Wherever you go, I will find you. Even if the world ends, I will still find you. You are my world, Daphne. My breath. My reason. There is nowhere you could go that my hands wouldn't reach."
He drew back just enough to look into her eyes.
The madness was there now, unhidden but so was the ache.
The vulnerability.
