“We should get some sleep,” she said. “Tomorrow we have to face everyone who watched Lilith throw a tantrum and vanish in a cloud of sulfur.”
“The firm will be talking about it for decades.”
“Centuries, probably. Given your lifespans.”
“Our lifespans now,” he corrected quietly. “The bond changes things. You may find yourself aging… differently.”
She considered this. Felt his anxiety through the bond: his fear that she’d regret this, that eternity was too long a commitment.
“Good,” she said simply.
He pressed a kiss to the top of her head.
Tomorrow would matter. The firm, the fallout, the absence shaped like Lilith—all of it waiting.
But tonight, his arm was around her and the bond hummed steady, and she let that be enough.
CHAPTER 13
Monday morning came too soon.
Ava woke to sunlight streaming through floor-to-ceiling windows and the unfamiliar luxury of Victor’s bed: their bed now, she supposed, though the thought still felt strange. The sheets were ridiculous: Egyptian cotton with a thread count that probably required its own insurance policy. She’d slept better than she had in years, which seemed deeply unfair given everything that had happened.
The space beside her was empty but still warm.
She could feel Victor somewhere nearby, not his location exactly, but his presence. A low hum at the edge of her consciousness, like background music she was learning to tune. He was calm this morning. Focused. A little anxious about something he was trying to hide from her.
The bond was going to make secrets very difficult.
She padded to the bathroom, marble cool beneath her feet, and stopped dead in front of the mirror.
The soul bond mark had spread overnight.
What had been an intricate silver pattern across her chest now spiraled outward like frost on a window, tendrils curling toward her collarbone, her shoulder, the hollow of her throat. Inthe morning light, it shimmered faintly, not glowing exactly, but catching light in ways normal skin shouldn’t.
Impossible to hide completely. Her silk blouse would cover most of it, but anyone looking closely would see the edges peeking above her neckline. The silver tracery at her throat like the world’s most permanent choker.
“Everyone already knows.”
She turned to find Victor in the doorway, two cups of coffee in hand, already dressed in one of his identical charcoal suits. His own mark showed through his white dress shirt; the blue had deepened to something that looked almost black in certain light, spreading across his chest in patterns that seemed to shift when she wasn’t looking directly at them.
“The partners announced it,” he continued, crossing to hand her a cup. “Lilith made her dramatic exit. There’s no hiding what we are now.”
The coffee was perfect. Of course it was.
“How do we do this?” She turned back to the mirror, watching him appear behind her reflection. His hands settled on her waist, warm and steadying. “Walk into the office like nothing’s changed when everything’s changed?”
“We go in. Face the music. Pretend we’re professionals who happen to be magically bonded for eternity.” His lips brushed her temple. “Standard Monday, really.”
“That’s a terrible plan.”
“It’s the only plan.”
She leaned back against him, watching their reflections. The ancient demon in his bespoke suit, the first-year associate in her borrowed silk robe, their marks visible through fabric like matching brands. They looked like what they were now: claimed. Bound. Permanent.
The terror she expected didn’t come. Instead, there was just… certainty. Strange and new, but solid.
“Okay,” she said. “Let’s go be professionals.”
