The words landed hard, and I let them sit between us.
“You hurt me,” I said. “You left me in that coffin.”
“I know.”
“You let them use you against me.”
He shut his eyes. “I know.”
“You watched me suffer.”
“I know,” he whispered. “And I hate myself for it.”
I studied him. The man who once stood at my side in battle. The man who turned away from me for power. The man who chose me tonight without thinking twice.
I set my glass down. “You saved my life.”
He swallowed. “I tried. After failing you for centuries. It was the only thing I could do that mattered.”
Standing, I crossed the room to him and pulled him to his feet. “You are still my brother.”
Relief rushed through his expression so strongly he had to grip the armchair to steady himself. “Thank you.”
I nodded. “We will figure out the rest tomorrow.”
His grin returned. “Tomorrow sounds good. Tonight, I need about seven drinks and a full hour of pretending I did not almost die.”
I snorted. “You have always been dramatic.”
“You love it.”
“Not even a little.”
He lifted his glass toward me. “To survival.”
I lifted mine to meet his. “To second chances.”
We drank.
A calm settled over us. Two brothers, alive. No court breathing down our necks. No chains between us.
I heard the door creak and Nadia stepped in, barefoot, damp hair trailing over her shoulders, wearing one of my shirts. She stopped halfway across the room and angled her head at the stainless steel fridge.
She wrinkled her nose. “I don’t want to know what is in there, do I?”
“Nope. You do not,” Cassian said.
I chuckled as she tiptoed past the fridge like it might open on its own. She made a theatrical face of horror, then crossed the room to me.
Without hesitation, she climbed into my lap, like it was always meant to be her seat. I wrapped an arm around her waist. Her hands rested on my shoulders. She smelled like shampoo.
Cassian uncorked a bottle with exaggerated focus, giving us space without stepping out of the room. He poured himself a drink and pretended to care about the label.
I rested my chin on Nadia’s shoulder. “You are not scared of what I am?”
She leaned back against me. “Should I be? You have better taste in loungewear than I do. And you floss.”
A laugh escaped me before I could stop it, and Nadia tilted her head just enough to smile up at me.
