My chest heaves.
My hands shake—not with fear, but with the force of the fury still boiling inside me.
He’s dead.
But it isn’t enough.
It will never be enough.
Because there is no punishment severe enough for what he did to her.
For what he took.
For what she endured.
But I swear—on my blood, my crown, my soul—this is only the beginning of his end. I will wipe every piece of him from this world and the next.
Someone retches. Probably one of the guards.
I don’t care. I step over my uncle’s corpse without looking down, rage still burning through me, but all of it redirected now.
To her.
To Cecilia.
She’s all that matters.
I drop to my knees and lift her chin with trembling fingers, afraid to see how broken she might be.
But when her lashes flutter, when her gaze locks on mine—my heart fractures.
She’s alive.
“I’m here,” I whisper, voice ragged. “Cecilia. Kardhoúla mou. I’m here. I’ve got you.”
Relief washes over her face. Her lips part. “I knew you’d come.”
Then she blinks again, fighting to stay conscious.
“Wait,” she murmurs. “He-he took my ring.”
I freeze.
My stomach clenches.
That ring. That promise. That symbol of everything we are.
“I’ll get it back,” I vow, already glancing toward Dimitri’s crumpled body—but I can’t leave her. Not even for a second.
So, I do the only thing that matters in this moment.
I get her free.
My hands are shaking as I undo each knot, and when her body slumps forward, I catch her against my chest.
She fits there.
Perfectly. Like she was made for me.
