He closes his eyes, leaning into my touch.
"Wait here," he says suddenly.
Before I can respond, he's on his feet, striding out of the greenhouse. I sit in the debris, confused, my heart still racing from his declaration.
He returns five minutes later, something small clutched in his hand.
"This ring belonged to my mother," he says, kneeling in front of me. "My father gave it to her when I was a boy. She wore it every day until the day she died."
I press my hands to my mouth, tears streaming down my cheeks.
"I never thought I would give it to anyone. Never thought I would find someone worthy of what it represents." He opens his hand, revealing a diamond ring that catches the fading light. "I was wrong."
"Misha..."
"Bianca Benedetti." He takes a breath. "I can't promise you safety. I can't promise you an easy life. I can only promise that I will love you with everything I have, protect you with everything I am, and spend the rest of my days trying to be the man you deserve."
He looks up at me, this man who has killed for me, bled for me, rebuilt his entire life around me.
"Will you marry me?"
The word comes out before I can even think.
"Yes."
He slides the ring onto my finger. It fits perfectly—as if it was always meant to be there.
"Yes," I say again, laughing and crying at the same time. "Yes, of course, yes."
He pulls me into his arms, crushing me against his chest, his face buried in my hair. I can feel him shaking—this man who never shows weakness, trembling in my arms like a leaf.
"I love you," I whisper against his neck.
"I love you too." His voice is rough, broken. "God, Bianca. I love you so much."
We stay there, kneeling in the dirt and the debris, holding each other as the evening light fades around us. The greenhouse is still destroyed. The world is still dangerous. Nothing has been solved.
But everything has changed.
When he finally pulls back, his eyes are suspiciously bright.
"We should go inside," he says. "It's getting cold."
"In a minute."
I pull his face down to mine and kiss him.
It starts gentle—soft, tender, a seal on the promises we've just made. But then his hand slides into my hair, angling my head, and the kiss deepens. Becomes something else. Something hungry and desperate and full of everything we've been holding back.
He groans against my mouth, and I feel it everywhere—a vibration that runs through my entire body, awakening nerve endings I'd almost forgotten existed. His other hand finds my waist, pulling me closer, and I go willingly, pressing myself against him.
"Bianca," he murmurs against my lips. "We should—"
"Take me upstairs."
He pulls back just enough to look at me, his eyes dark with want.
"Are you sure?"
