His hand released her mouth at the same time the scent of him registered. Salt. Amber.
Home.
“How?” she breathed.
The sound of his Icrurian accent curled in her ear. “Not even death could keep me from you.”
“Reid.” Her voice cracked, and then she spun and threw herself at him. Her arms wrapped around his neck at the same time his own dragged her against him. She fought a wretched sob, forcing herself to stay quiet, afraid someone might hear them through the door. But she felt him. Felt his heart beat wildly in his chest, felt the intensity of each thud.
She tore at his mask. It fell from his face and revealed the stunning lines of his jaw, lips, and cheeks. Orange eyes and dark auburn hair, cut short now, his broad shoulders a beacon of home. He looked so different without his long ponytail and dressed in Asteryan clothing, yet there was some instinct in herthat recognized him perfectly—the one that yearned for every part of him.
His fingers gently lifted her own mask, and her heart rose as she watched him take in the sight of her unobstructed face.
“Finally.” He traced her cheek with his thumb. “I found you.”
“You were never injured?” she asked.
It earned her that confident smirk of his, pride in what she now realized was his own small scheme. “No. Just on my way to you.”
“Reid,” she said again. Because she could. Because she wanted to. Because it was hers to whisper. She leaned into his large hand, the roughness of his skin a breath of fresh air, a relief of disproportionate measure against the deceiving softness of everyone else in this city. She could stand no farther distance. Vaasa wound her hand around the nape of his neck and pulled his mouth down to hers in a searing kiss.
The intimacy seemed to unwind him, to confirm something for Reid that Vaasa didn’t understand. But she felt the loosening of his body beneath her hands as he kissed her back. He backed them further into the room, his free hand trailing behind him for only a moment before he twisted it into her hair. His tongue pressed against the seam of her lips, and she parted them, deepening the kiss. Her hands clawed at his shoulders, dragging herself against his body as tightly as she could go.
“Run away with me, Wild One,” he whispered against her mouth. “Let me take you home.”
For a stolen breath, she pretended that it was that simple. That they could sprint down the stairs and out into the snow and steal a boat from the harbor, rowing all the way home. But then reality returned, and Vaasa remembered exactly who was searching for her downstairs. Fear yanked her upright; it caused her world to tilt and shatter.
“You have to hide,” she said, head whipping around and looking for a good spot. There was a closet on the far side of the room, but would Reid fit into it?
“What is going on?” he asked, his thick Icrurian accent weaving between them. His body had gone stiff again.
Vaasa didn’t know how to explain. Nerves racked against her ribcage. To contextualize everything with Roman would take far longer than they had. “My lead sentinel didn’t give me permission to leave. He’s trying to find me downstairs. If he sees you, if he—”
“I’ve locked the door,” Reid assured her, inspecting her frightened gaze. “There was no one behind you on the stairs.”
“Are you certain?”
“Positive.”
Vaasa stared up at him. Perhaps Roman would think she wasn’t here and just leave. If she waited it out…
They were alone.
“How did you know it was me?” she whispered.
The very edge of his mouth turned up into that amused grin, the same one that had at one time sent anger rushing through her. His Icrurian accent played with her, all soft vowels and strung-together words. “Did you think I wouldn’t know you through a mask? I’ve seen through every one.”
Her entire being reached for him, as it always seemed to. Her hands rose to touch his jaw. His cheeks. To trace the lines of his face, just to be sure it was all real.
But it was real. Reid was here, in Mekës. Roman was right downstairs. Karev and Vlacik were under the same roof.
Yet all she could focus on was him. Her body knew, and the tautness in her muscles loosened. She could finally let fear fall. This was the undeniable effect Reid of Mireh had upon her; before him, no one had ever brought her peace.
“How are you here?” she asked.
He loosened his grip upon her, gesturing toward the window. “I’ll tell you everything later. For now, we need to find Amalie and run. We’ve gotten luckier—”
“He has Amalie,” Vaasa interrupted. Her hand wrapped around his wrist. “Ozik has her in the prison. If I go, he’ll kill her.”
