Nathan sat up with me, studying my face. "How?"
"Mark me." The words surprised me, but I knew they were right. "Not... not like he did. But something. Reminder that my body answers to someone else now."
Understanding dawned in his eyes. He shifted me off his lap, standing and moving to his bag. When he turned back, he was holding a marker. Black ink, permanent.
"Where?" he asked.
I pulled off my shirt, exposing skin mapped with Gabriel's careful damage. Found a spot over my heart he'd never touched—small miracle of unmarked flesh.
"Here."
Nathan knelt in front of me, marker poised. "What should I write?"
I thought about it. What words could anchor me? What reminder could cut through conditioning when I was drowning in trained responses?
"Mine," I said finally. "Just... mine. Not his, not yours, not anyone's but mine."
He met my eyes, understanding deeper than words. Then carefully, reverently, he wrote the word over my heart. His handwriting was precise, controlled. Nothing like Gabriel's flowery script.
"There," he said when finished. "Truth in permanent ink."
I looked down at the word, feeling something settle in my chest. Such a simple thing. Four letters. But seeing it there, black against pale skin, made something click into place.
"Thank you," I whispered.
"Don't thank me yet." He capped the marker, then pulled me to my feet. "We still have to get through today."
Today. The word felt too small for what was coming. Confrontation. Resolution. The end of one story and maybe the beginning of another. If we survived. If I stayed myself. If, if, if.
But standing there in the growing light, Nathan's mark over my heart and his promises in my ears, I felt something I hadn't expected.
Ready.
Not confident—I wasn't stupid enough for confidence. Not calm—my body still trembled with proximity responses. But ready. Whatever happened in the next few hours, I'd face it as myself. This version. The one who'd chosen her own name and her own purpose and her own person to love.
"Shower," Nathan said, pressing a kiss to my forehead. "Breakfast. Weapons check. Then we end this."
"Then we end this," I agreed.
I moved toward the bathroom, then paused. "Nathan?"
"Yeah?"
"Thank you. For seeing me. The real me, not just the damage or the conditioning."
"Thank you for letting yourself be seen."
We looked at each other across the dingy motel room, two damaged people preparing for war. But also maybe something else. Something worth surviving for.
Time to find out who Bunny really was when the hunt was over.
22
Found
The facility split us apart like it was designed to.
One moment Nathan was beside me, steady presence in the dark. The next, a door slammed between us—heavy steel that locked with finality. I heard him curse, fist hitting metal, but the sound grew distant as something pulled me forward. Not physically. Deeper than that.
