But first, I would hold my beautiful little warrior and kiss her one last time.
I brushed her hair aside and framed her face with my hands, pulling her down to me. Our lips met, and I coaxed hers open to deepen the kiss and to lose myself in her.
She whimpered, her hot tears falling on my face. I wouldn’t give in to my grief over the life stolen from us. This moment was about her. She would survive this, and her last memory of me would be full of love and tenderness.
She stifled a sob, and I kissed away the tears streaming down her cheeks as I memorized her sweet face.
“Shhh, don’t cry. It’ll be okay.”
“It’ll never be okay.” She pressed her face against my throat, and I held her tightly as she cried.
My heart ached, not because of the demon attacking it, but for her. She’d grieve whe
