Mikhail pulls two plain bands from his pocket, ones they must’ve grabbed in the rush. I slide one on her finger, she slides one on mine, hands trembling.
The priest rushes the last words. “I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride.”
I don’t wait. I kiss her deep, hands in her hair, tasting her tears and her fire and every promise we never got to make before this nightmare. She kisses me back like she’s drowning and I’m the only thing keeping her afloat.
When we break apart, foreheads pressed together, breathing ragged, I whisper, “You’re mine now. No one can take you again. Ever.”
She smiles through the tears, small and real. “I was always yours.”
Lucky claps me on the back, grinning like a lunatic. “Congrats, brother. Hell of a wedding.”
Blade nods toward Konstantin’s body. “We leaving that here?”
Dmitri holsters his pistol. “Let him rot. He doesn’t deserve a grave.”
Viktor lowers his gun last, face unreadable but eyes wet. He steps forward, puts a hand on Anya’s shoulder. “You’re safe now, little one.”
Anya reaches for him, hugs him quick and fierce. “Thank you.”
We step over Konstantin’s body like he’s trash.
Anya’s hand is in mine, ring glinting under candlelight.
We walk out together. Husband and wife. Iron Reapers and Dragunov blood. No more cages. No more threats. Just us. And the whole damn world can try to touch her again. We’ll burn it down together.
The second we’re out of that blood-soaked church I scoop Anya up, dress and all, because her heels keep catching on the stone and I’m not risking her falling. She buries her face in my neck, arms locked around me, shaking like she’s still waiting for a bullet that never came. Lucky’s already got the SUV idling at the curb, back door open. I slide her in first, climb in after, slam it shut.
“Hotel’s five minutes,” Lucky says from the driver’s seat, eyes flicking to the rearview. “Clean spot. Off the grid. We cleared it.”
I don’t answer. My arm’s around her waist, holding her against my side so tight I can feel every tremor. Her hand finds mine, fingers threading through, thumb rubbing over the new ring like she’s making sure it’s real. I press my lips to her temple, breathe her in, jasmine from whatever they sprayed on her hair, gunpowder from the church, and underneath it all, her.
“You came,” she whispers, voice cracked.
“Always.” My throat’s tight. “Told you I’d burn everything down to get to you.”
The SUV stops outside a low gray building, no sign, just a side door. Lucky kills the engine. “Room 12. Key’s in the lock. We’ve got the perimeter.”
I nod once, then I’m out, pulling Anya with me. She stumbles a little in those heels so I scoop her up again at the threshold,carry her inside, kick the door shut. The room’s basic, bed with white sheets, lamp on low, bathroom light already glowing. Doesn’t matter. It’s ours.
I set her down slow, but I don’t let go. Hands slide to her face, thumbs brushing the tear tracks through the makeup. “You okay?”
She nods, even though she’s still trembling. “I thought I was going to lose you.”
“You didn’t.” I kiss her forehead, her eyelids, her mouth, soft at first because I’m scared she’ll shatter. “You’re here. You’re mine. That’s all I need.”
She grabs my jacket, yanks me closer. “I said I do. To you. Not him.”
My blood heats. “Yeah. You did.”
I turn her around, fingers finding the laces at her back. They come undone one by one, silk parting under my hands. The dress slides down her arms, pools at her feet. She’s bare underneath, no bra, no panties, just skin and fading bruises and the faint red lines from zip ties. My breath catches hard.
“Fuck, baby.” My hands skim her sides, careful over the cuts, tracing every mark like I can erase them with my fingers. “Look at you.”
She steps out of the dress, kicks it away like it’s poison. “I hate it.”
“Then it’s gone.” I shrug out of my jacket, yank my shirt over my head, kick off boots and jeans until I’m bare too. I’m already hard, aching, but I don’t rush. I back her toward the bed, gentlebut sure. She sits on the edge, I drop to my knees between her thighs.
“You don’t have to—” she starts, but I cut her off with a kiss to the inside of her knee.
