I wantthis.
Him.
All of him.
The growls and the scars and the quiet towel offerings outside the shower.
I wrap my arms around his neck and pull him down again. “Don’t stop,” I whisper.
He doesn’t.
Not until the walls rattle, and my name becomes a broken thing on his tongue.
Not until the storm inside both of us burns itself quiet.
And even then?—
Even then, he stays.
CHAPTER 14
VOLTAR
The room hums with quiet. The kind of silence that wraps around your skin like a second blanket. It's the dead stretch before dawn, when the whole city exhales in its sleep. But I'm wide awake.
Sable’s breath is soft against my ribs, each exhale a featherlight touch. Her fingers curl loosely over my chest, and I can feel her heartbeat, slow and steady, as if my presence is something she trusts—even in sleep.
Gods, she’s beautiful like this.
I shift a little, careful not to wake her. The mattress groans anyway, and she stirs. Her lashes flutter, and for a second I freeze, but then she settles deeper into me with a small sigh. Like I’m her anchor.
I lean in, press a kiss to her temple. “Sleep,” I murmur.
She doesn’t hear it, not really. But maybe something in her does, because she smiles faintly, and my chest aches.
I slip out from under her like a thief, every move deliberate. Quiet. Boots in one hand. Gear in the other. It’s muscle memory—dress, lock, scan. By the time I’m in the kitchen, I’ve got half my armor strapped on, and my comm buzzes.
Lazarus.
I tap the earpiece. “Talk.”
“They’re escalating,” he says. No greeting. Just war.
My jaw tightens. “How bad?”
“Encrypted chatter spiked. Surveillance sweeps in the lower blocks. Someone pinged your address—might’ve been a scout.”
I glance toward the bedroom. My voice drops low. “Let ‘em.”
“You sure about that?” he asks. “Because this feels like a storm building.”
I start buckling on the chest plate. “Then we build higher walls.”
“Voltar—”
“I said let ‘em come.”
There’s a pause on his end. A breath of static. “You’re not thinking straight. She’s?—”
