"Then keep me because you love me," she whispers. Her arms wind around my neck, holding me like she's afraid I'll disappear.
I pull back enough to look at her. The mask of thePakhanis gone, and the man underneath is raw, without any of the defenses he used to have.
"Love is a weakness I never thought I'd afford," I say. "In the beginning, you were collateral. A way to hurt your father. I didn't want to love you. I fought it every night I had you in this house. But somewhere between the blood and the fire, you became the only thing keeping me anchored. I broke this city because it was the only way to build a throne strong enough to keep you on it."
Her eyes soften, and she gives me the first real smile I've ever seen from her. "I love you, Konstantin. Not the King or thePakhan. I love the man who stood in the fire for me."
I back her toward the glass while the lights of the city shimmer like diamonds behind her. I'm fully crowned, my reign has started, and the woman at my side is exactly where she chose to be.
"Mine," I growl against her throat, my teeth grazing her skin. "In the blood and the bone."
"I am yours," she gasps, her fingers digging into my hair.
The war is over. The reign has begun. As the fire dies down and leaves us in the shadows, the King and his Queen are exactly where they were meant to be.
The debts are paid. The chains are broken.
All that's left is the blood we've spilled, the throne we've built, and a bond that even death would be afraid to touch.
EPILOGUE
HELENA
Three Months Later…
I sit on the edge of the leather sofa and stare at the small plastic wand in my hand. I must've read the instructions on the box three times just to be sure, but the result hasn't changed.
Two bright pink lines. A positive pregnancy test.
I tap the plastic, and a slow smile spreads across my face as the elevator chimes.
The steel doors slide open, and Konstantin steps out.
He’s immaculate and dangerous in his charcoal suit. He just finished a final meeting with the last surviving Italian captains, the ones who were smart enough to surrender their territories.
"You're late," I say, tossing the test onto the glass coffee table.
"Politics," he grunts. He walks straight to the liquor cabinet and reaches for the bourbon. As he pours, the light catches his wrist.
Without waiting for him to speak, I stand and walk over.
His hand comes into mine, his wrist turned slightly so I can see the edge of his sleeve. There, right beside the expensive cufflink, is a fresh speck of blood.
I click my tongue.
A napkin is picked up and drawn casually over the metal, wiping the stain away until it shines again. “Messy.”
His free hand comes up to grip my hip. "He was disrespectful."
"Did you kill him?" I ask.
"No. Broke his jaw," he says, his thumb grazing my waist. "He won't speak out of turn again."
"Good," I murmur, tracing my nail down his lapel. "Because you're going to need to start setting a better example."
Frowning, his eyes narrow. "What are you talking about?"
I turn and point to the coffee table.
