When they finally shattered together, pleasure washing over them in waves, he held her close, unwilling to break the connection between them. For a moment—just a moment—the world beyond this room ceased to exist. No family plots, no vengeance, no inevitable reckoning.
Just this. Just them.
Afterward, as they lay tangled in the sheets and in each other, her head resting on his chest and his fingers tracing patterns on her skin, neither spoke. Words seemed inadequate, potentially ruinous to the fragile peace they’d found.
He knew this couldn’t last. Knew that the path ahead was lined with blood and betrayal and consequences neither of them could fully predict. Knew that by all rights, one of them should be dead at the other’s hand.
But for tonight, in the quiet darkness of his bedroom, with Nadi’s breath warm against his skin and her heartbeat steady under his palm, he allowed himself something he hadn’t permitted in centuries: hope.
Not for redemption—he was far beyond that. Not for forgiveness—some sins could never be absolved.
But for the possibility that amid all the death and destruction they had planned, something might survive. Something worth preserving.
Even if it destroyed them both.
EIGHTEEN
The morning light streaming through Raziel’s bedroom windows felt different now. Nadi watched the specks of dust dance in the golden beams, her head resting on his chest. Something fundamental had changed during the night—a line crossed that couldn’t be uncrossed.
She should have felt trapped. Should have been planning her escape. Not so long ago, that had been precisely what she had been doing. Instead, she found herself tracing lazy patterns on his skin, memorizing the feel of him.
He might be gone soon, after all.
And that feeling…hurt her.
Which was a whole different thing to reflect on.
“You’re thinking too loudly.” His voice was still rough with sleep. Slowly, he began combing his fingers through her hair, the gesture surprisingly gentle.
“Someone has to think in this relationship,” she teased, immediately regretting the word choice.Relationship.As if that was what this was.
His hand stilled. “Is that what we’re calling this now?”
She lifted her head to look at him, taking in the sharp angles of his face in the morning light. Even relaxed, he lookeddangerous. A predator pretending to be domesticated. “I don’t know what to call it.”
“Neither do I.” Red eyes studied her. “But whatever it is, we have more pressing concerns today.”
Right. The wedding preparations. She would have to head over to Lana’s for continued “essential feminine consultations” regarding the ceremony. Another performance to maintain, another layer of deception to navigate.
“What time am I expected?” Nadi sat up, immediately missing the feeling of his body against hers.
“Within the hour.” Raziel’s eyes tracked her movements as she rose from the bed. “Remember what we discussed. Gather intelligence about the security arrangements, but don’t take unnecessary risks. And Imeanthat.”
“Yeah, yeah…no murdering anyone, I get it.” She nodded as she shifted into Monica’s appearance. The transformation felt heavier now, like putting on armor. “And you’ll be meeting with Mael?”
“Yes. He wants to discusssecurity.More likely, it’s about my new role in the family hierarchy. Seeing as it’s clear he views you as higher than me now.” Raziel’s smile was sharp as a blade. “I’m to be relegated to ceremonial duties only. A neutered attack dog, kept for show.”
The bitterness in his voice made something twist in her chest. Whatever else Raziel was, he was brilliant—his intelligence wasted on his family’s petty power games.
“Be careful,” she said, surprising herself with the genuine concern in her voice. “Don’t take unnecessary risks.”
He smirked. “I will do what I can, my little assassin.”
The endearment shouldn’t have warmed her as much as it did.
The wedding was being held in Volencia’s home. It was a hive of activity when Nadi arrived. Servants rushed about with flowers, fabric, and enough crystal to outfit a small palace. The scent of expensive perfume and bloodwine hung heavy in the air, mixed with the aromas of baking bread and roasting meat.
“Monica!” Lana swept toward her, resplendent in a dressing gown of midnight-blue silk. Her blonde hair was elaborately pinned with pearls, and her smile was radiant. “Thank the moons you’re here. I’m positivelydrowningin last-minute decisions.”
