She thought about what he’d told her in the mountains—about his pack, his betrayal, his choice to walk away rather than tear everything apart fighting for what was his. He understood this moment in ways she was only beginning to grasp.
“Thank you,” she said softly. “For being here. For believing I could do this.”
“I never doubted it.”
She looked up at him, this fierce warrior who’d chosen her, who’d followed her from the mountains into a world he wasn’t part of because of her. His eyes were still golden, still bright with the beast that lurked beneath the surface, but there was tenderness there too. Protection. Love.
“I have work to do,” she said. “A company to run. A legacy to protect.”
“I know.”
“But right now…” She let her head fall against his shoulder again. “Right now, I just want to stay here. Just for a moment.”
His arms tightened around her.
“Take all the time you need.”
Outside, Port Cantor’s towers gleamed in the afternoon light, the city carrying on oblivious to the small drama that had just unfolded in this quiet office. Somewhere below, a shuttle was lifting off, carrying Marina Duvain towards exile and an uncertain future. The board members were probably already gathering in smaller groups, comparing notes, choosing sides.
But here, in this moment, none of that mattered.
Ember closed her eyes and let herself breathe.
CHAPTER 27
“Come with me.”
Ember looked up from the financial projections scattered across her desk, dark circles visible beneath her eyes. She’d been at it since dawn—Rykan knew because he’d woken to find the bed empty and cold beside him, her scent already hours old on the sheets.
“I can’t. The quarterly review is in three days and I still haven’t?—”
“The quarterly review will still be there in a few hours.” He crossed to the desk and plucked the stylus from her fingers, setting it carefully aside. “You haven’t left this tower in two weeks.”
“That’s not true. I went to the manufacturing facility on Tuesday.”
“For a board inspection. That doesn’t count.”
She opened her mouth to argue, but he was already pulling her to her feet. Her body swayed slightly—exhaustion or surprise—and he steadied her with a hand at her waist.
“Rykan, I really should?—”
“You should eat something that isn’t served cold at your desk. You should breathe air that doesn’t smell like recycled climate control.” He let his thumb trace a small circle against her hip. “You should remember why you’re fighting so hard to keep this company.”
Something in her expression softened. The tension around her mouth eased, and for a moment she looked less like the formidable Duvain heir and more like the woman who’d kissed him in the snow.
“Where are we going?”
“Does it matter?”
A smile flickered at the corner of her lips. “I suppose not.”
He gave her a moment to change, then led her out through the private lift, bypassing the main floors where her presence would inevitably trigger a cascade of interruptions. The guards at the private entrance straightened as they passed, and he gave them a brief nod before guiding her out through the door and into the chaos of Port Cantor. He’d already ordered them to follow at a discreet distance, but he didn’t want her to know.
The sound and color of the city surrounded them, along with a thousand overlapping scents, all fighting for dominance in the narrow streets that branched away from Duvain Tower’s pristine plaza. After two weeks confined to the sterile corridors of corporate power, the sensory assault was almost overwhelming.
Her hand tightened on his arm.
“Are you all right?”
