Not panic. Not fear of losing him.
Something deeper.
My breath hitched. My hands tightened around his neck.
He felt it instantly. Pulled back just enough to search my face, thumb brushing my cheekbone.
"Alena?" His voice was soft, careful. "Baby, talk to me."
The words came out broken, raw.
"I was in love with you from the moment I saw you," I whispered. "That first night. Hyde Park. You sat down and I couldn't breathe."
His eyes went wide.
"I don't want to lose you," I continued, voice cracking. "Not now. Not ever. I can't—"
He rolled us onto our sides still pulsing inside me, pulling me tight against his chest. One arm wrapped around mywaist, the other cradling my head. He pressed his forehead to mine, eyes shining.
"I chose that bench because you stopped my heart ten feet away," he said, voice rough with emotion. "I saw you crying and I couldn't walk past. Couldn't leave you there."
My breath caught.
"And when I sat down next to you," he continued, thumb stroking my cheek, "it took me ten minutes to find the strength to look at you. Because I knew—the second I did—I'd be yours. Forever."
Tears spilled over, hot and fast.
"I love you, Alena," he whispered. "I've loved you for seventeen years. And I'm never letting you go."
The smile that spread across his face was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen. Relief. Joy. Seventeen years of want finally finding home.
"I love you," I whispered back, voice breaking. "I love you so much."
He kissed me then—soft, deep, claiming. Like he was sealing a vow.
And I kissed him back, knowing that whatever came next, we'd face it together.
Because I was his.
And he was mine.
Finally.
11
DROGO
The kiss was everything I'd spent seventeen years pretending I didn't need. Soft, slow, like we had all the time in the world now that the dam had finally broken. Her hands around my neck felt like coming home. Her body still pressed to mine, still trembling from me, still holding traces of us between her thighs. For one perfect heartbeat, the universe made sense.
The corner of the room seemed darker than it should be. A shadow pooling where the moonlight didn't quite reach. I blinked, and it was gone.
But Alena tensed.
Then I felt it—the shift. The way she stiffened, just slightly, like a deer catching a scent on the wind. Her breath caught, not in pleasure anymore, but in something sharper.
I pulled back slowly, searching her face. The panic was already there, swimming in those dark eyes I knew better than my own reflection. Her lips parted, but no sound came out. She was retreating, right in front of me, pulling the walls back up brick by brick.
That's not a good sign.
