“I would burn a thousand times if it meant you were safe.”
Her pulse stuttered, breath tangled somewhere between awe and ache—she’d never known a man so ruined could still look like salvation. She leaned into his touch, as if to keep from falling apart.
“Don’t you dare,” she whispered, smiling through tears.
A flicker of laughter escaped him, fractured by a groan, and still it was him—still her Viktor. She stroked his temple, his jaw, anything to comfort him.
“I thought you’d died,” she confessed, voice breaking. “When the wall came down—I thought you were gone.”
His gaze burned through fever, steady, unshaken.
“Not gone. Not leaving. Not ever.”
Something inside her unraveled. Her lips quivered as she bent, brushing them to his—the barest touch. He drew a sharp breath as though it hurt him.
“Amerei… wait. Not like this. You deserve—”
“I deserve you.”
Her voice was fierce, unshaken now.
“I have been yours since the day you crossed the desert to find me.”
Every fear, every war between them fell silent. Only this remained: his hand against her heart, her eyes locked with his, and the certainty that from this moment on, they were no longer their own.
His hand rose to cup her face.
Then he surged.
Shattered body or not, he pulled her against him with what strength he had left. His lips crashed to hers, trembling, desperate, achingly alive.
Heat tore through her, so swift and overwhelming she thought she might break. His mouth parted hers, reverent and starving all at once, and she answered him without hesitation.
Her body curved into his, her hands sliding into his hair, loosening braids still tangled from battle. His arm, weak yet unyielding, locked at her waist, pulling her down against the solid line of him until she could feel his heartbeat hammering against her ribs as if it were her own.
He tore back, gasping, his forehead pressed hard to hers.
“I’ve wanted this since I first saw you in the Glaston forest.”
Her smile broke against a sob.
“Then take it,” she whispered, pulling him into another kiss—softer this time, tender, sealing the vow that had waited between them since the moment they first met.
When she finally drew away, his breath still quaked against her lips, his hand slipping weakly from her cheek. The fight in him had burned out, and the weight of his body dragged him back against the pillows. She caught his fingers before they could fall, pressing them to her mouth.
“Rest,” she murmured. “I’ll be right here.”
He tried to protest, the faintest shake of his head, but his strength failed him. His eyes closed, lashes dark against his skin, and still his hand clung to hers.
She kissed his knuckles once more, then laid them gently against her heart as she lowered herself beside the bed. The floorboards were cold beneath her, the room steeped in shadow, but she did not let go. Her head bowed against the mattress, her fingers threaded through his, she let the rhythm of his shallow breathing soothe her toward sleep.
“You’re mine,” he whispered in the dark.
Her lips trembled against his wrist.
“I’m yours.”
Chapter Thirty-Nine
