I press a light kiss to Jace’s chest, right over the compass rose that always points north. He stirs again, his arm tightening around my waist in a silent claim, and I smile into the slow dawnas he pulls me closer—even in sleep, even now, he won’t let me go.
“Jace,” I murmur against his skin.
Another kiss, this one moving up toward his collarbone.
“Jace.”
His breathing changes—still deep but not quite as even. His hand slides up my back, warm and possessive, fingers spreading across my shoulder blade.
“Princess?” His voice is rough with sleep, slightly confused. “That you?”
“No, it’s the other woman you have in your bed,” I say against his skin.
That gets a response. His eyes open—steel-blue and slightly unfocused, but there. He blinks, processing, then looks down at me.
“Parker.” There’s relief in his voice, like he needed to confirm it was really me, really here, really in his arms.
“Were you expecting someone else?”
“No.” His hand moves up to cup the back of my head, fingers tangling in my hair. “Just... making sure this isn’t a dream.”
“I’m here.” I trace the phoenix on his shoulder with one finger. “Cal and Silas left already. Meeting with Charles.”
“What time is it?”
I glance at the clock on my nightstand. “Seven thirty.”
“Fuck.” He closes his eyes again. “Too early.”
“You’re the one who’s always up at dawn doing tactical exercises or whatever it is you do.”
“That’s work. This is...” He pulls me closer, settling me more firmly against his side. “This is better than work.”
I smile against his skin, pressing another kiss to his chest. “Smooth.”
“I’m trying.” His thumb strokes along my scalp in a gentle rhythm. “You okay? After everything last night?”
“Which everything? The gala, the Ryan situation, or the part where Silas nearly kicked down my door and then we all ended up here?”
“All of it.”
I consider the question. Am I okay? I’m angry—at Ryan for lying, at Aria for scheming, at Charles for manipulating the situation. I’m hurt—that Jace and Cal doubted me, that they investigated instead of trusting. I’m worried—about what Ryan might do, what Aria knows or thinks she knows, what this means for the boys.
But I’m also here, in Jace’s arms, in my bed, in a house next door to the one where Cal and Silas live. I’m wearing the colors I chose to claim them publicly. I have DNA results coming soon that will answer questions we’ve all been too scared to ask.
I’m not alone anymore. And that’s worth something.
“I’m okay,” I say finally. “Still mad at you. Still processing. But okay.”
“I’ll take it.” He presses a kiss to the top of my head. “And for what it’s worth—I’m still sorry. For doubting you. For not coming to you first.”
“I know you are.”
“I love you.” His voice is quiet, serious, the kind of tone he usually reserves for tactical briefings or life-or-death decisions. “I know I fucked up. I know saying it doesn’t fix it. But I need you to know—I love you, Parker. More than I thought I was capable of loving anyone. And I’m going to prove I’ve learned from this. That I can be what you need.”
The words settle in my chest, warm and aching and full of promise.
“I love you too,” I whisper. “Even when I’m mad at you. Even when you spiral instead of just talking to me.”
