Dmitri ignored him completely, his gaze still fixed on me. “What’s your happiest memory?”
I blinked, caught off guard. “My happiest memory?”
“Yes,” he said. “I know who you are when you’re fighting, when you’re cornered. I’d like to know who you were before all of this. Before ARCHEON got a hold of you.”
Roman’s smirk faded, the teasing dying on his lips. Even Lev, who’d been leaning against the counter, glanced over, curious but silent.
I hesitated, my fingers brushing over the rim of my glass. “I don’t think anyone has ever asked me that.”
“Well, I’m asking now,” Dmitri said softly.
I looked down, watching the condensation trail down the glass. “When I was a kid,” I said slowly, “there was this old amusementpark outside London. It was falling apart, even back then. My mom would sneak me in after closing. The lights would still be on and the whole place would be empty. She’d put me on the carousel and spin it herself.”
I smiled, the memory soft and far away. “It squeaked so loudly I thought it might fall apart. I used to laugh until my stomach hurt. I think that was the last time the world felt simple. Fun. Beautiful.”
Dmitri’s eyes didn’t waver. “What happened to her?”
The question was innocent, but it landed like a hammer to my chest. For a moment, I couldn’t answer. The room felt smaller, quieter. Even Roman and Lev stilled, waiting.
“She got sick,” I said finally, my voice low. “With cancer. It started small, or that’s what the doctors said. By the time anyone realized how bad it was, though, there wasn’t much left to do. I was sixteen.”
The memory rose unbidden—the hospital’s antiseptic sting, the sound of her shallow breathing, the way her hand had felt weightless in mine at the end.
Dmitri didn’t look away. “You were alone after that.”
It wasn’t a question, but I nodded anyway. “Yeah. I learned how to survive on my own.”
For a long moment, he said nothing. Then, to my surprise, his voice softened. “If we ever get out of this business with ARCHEON and Revenant alive, I’ll take you to an amusement park.”
I stared at him. “What?”
“You said it was your happiest memory. You deserve another one.”
The lump in my throat made it hard to speak, so I didn’t. I just watched him, the way his expression didn’t change, but his eyes were warmer now and my heart pulsed with emotion.
Roman cleared his throat dramatically. “Wow. That was almost sweet, brother. Careful, your reputation might not survive it.”
Lev let out a low chuckle. “Yeah, next thing you know, he’ll start smiling in public. Scandalous.”
Their banter made me smile. I wasn’t sure when it had started happening, when the tension between them had shifted from tense to playful, but around me, they seemed… lighter. As if the gravity they each carried alone had finally found a shared orbit.
Roman handed me a plate, carefully balanced with exactly what I liked—grilled lamb, roasted vegetables, flatbread torn into perfect pieces. “Try this,” he smiled. “Tell me I’m not a genius.”
I tasted it just to humor him, and my eyes widened. “That’s—okay, fine, that’sreallygood.”
He looked insufferably pleased with himself. “See? I told you. I’m a man of many talents.”
“Ordering food doesn’t count as a talent,” Lev countered.
He pressed a hand to his chest in mock offense. “It does when you do it this well.”
While Roman basked in his triumph, Lev moved behind me. I felt the gentle tug of my hair as he brushed his fingers through it, gathering it over one shoulder. The touch was so careful, so unexpectedly intimate, that my breath caught.
“Relax,” he murmured. “You’ve got a tangle.”
“I can manage.”
“I know,” he said, his voice barely above a whisper. “But let me.”
