Total pages in book: 131
Estimated words: 125368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 627(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 418(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 125368 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 627(@200wpm)___ 501(@250wpm)___ 418(@300wpm)
I nodded. Viktor’s fingers caressed my cheek before he touched my right ear. “Is it hurting you?”
“No. It’s okay. I am getting used to it now.” My fingers brushed the little piece in my ear as I spoke. Hearing aids.
I got them three days ago. I remembered the time when I had wished to hear Viktor’s voice. It was always a burning ache in my chest, knowing there was no possibility of it. But he made my dreams come true.
I was completely deaf from my left ear. I could go under the knife, maybe have a surgery done, the doctor said, but it was not guaranteed. I only had about fifteen percent of success. My right ear, though—if I used hearing aids, then it wasn’t totally useless.
“Good,” Viktor muttered. He leaned down to quickly capture my mouth in a chaste kiss. My lips tingled when he pulled away. “I don’t like the thought of you hurting, myshka.”
My heart halted and then quickened in pace. Thump. Beat. Warmth burst inside my chest, and my body involuntarily seemed to lean more into Viktor.
I remembered the first time I got the hearing aids, the first time I heard his voice.
My breathing quickened, and all I could do was stare at Viktor. I was struck mute once again as I waited for him to speak…to say something…to grace me with his voice.
My stomach tightened and my hands began to shake, my palms also sweating.
I didn’t dare speak.
No.
I couldn’t.
I wanted to hear his voice first.
I wanted to feel his voice first.
Viktor knelt in front of me, and he pushed my thighs apart so he could settle between them. His body crowded my space, filling my nose with his unique scent. His shoulders were straight, his chest wide and heaving with each breath he took. He was nervous, like me. Scared, like me.
I gripped his hands in mine and waited…waited…and waited.
He opened his mouth and then closed it again. He inhaled. I exhaled. I inhaled. He exhaled. It was almost a dance.
His lips parted, his hand tightened around mine. His dark eyes were intense and glazed. “Valerie…”
Oh God.
Tears welled up in my eyes, and I heard a choked sound. It came from me. The tears came down faster, wetting my cheeks.
“Valerie…I love you.”
I couldn’t breathe. I really…couldn’t breathe.
His voice, oh God—his voice—so deep and rich. Rough, but a hint of softness when he spoke to me.
His voice—it was the definition of divinity. It was soothing to my ears. His voice, the music to my soul, his words the lyrics…and Viktor himself, he was a song. My beautiful song. Tainted from life, filled with darkness—but so beautiful nonetheless. A song of pain and love.
“Viktor,” I said through a clogged throat, my voice was barely a whisper. But I heard it. My voice. His voice.
I could hear.
There was another choked sound. This time I wasn’t sure if it came from me or Viktor. My body shook and I slid to the ground, sobbing now.
“Say something…else. Don’t stop talking…please.”
Viktor pulled me onto his lap, and I ran my fingers through his wild hair, feeling the softness. He buried his face into my neck and he started speaking.
It was in that moment that I realized…I never wanted to stop listening to him.
His voice was a balm to my wounds.
And damn it all to hell, I loved his man more than anything. I loved him more than life, more than my next breath.
I love you, I wanted to say back. I love you so much.
But I couldn’t say the words. So I let him speak, for me, for us.
He talked. I listened.
It was magical—my little fairy-tale.
“It’s a boy.” A giddy cry came through. I watched as Maddie walked out of the room, holding a bundle in her arms. Everyone was smiling, laughing…so happy. A joyous moment, truly.
Viktor chuckled beside me. “The next King…” he whispered. They surrounded the baby, and Viktor pulled me forward too. His little red face was small, his cheeks round and chubby. His lips were pursed almost angrily, as if he were trying to hold in a cry. His tiny hands were balled into fists.
“He is grumpy,” I muttered, rubbing my thumb over his knuckles. So soft. He was the most beautiful thing I’d laid eyes on.
“He is Alessio’s son, after all,” Maddie replied. Her smile lit up her whole face, her brown eyes dancing with unshed, happy tears.
The little one made a tiny hiccup sound, drawing my attention back to him. Gosh. He had to be the cutest thing ever.
We all piled into the room as Maddie brought the baby back to his parents. Ayla was settled back against the pillows, looking completely exhausted, but her face was glowing nonetheless. Alessio was beside her, rubbing a cool cloth over her forehead. He hadn’t left her side, not even once, during her long hours of labour.