Page 173 of Arrow

Nodding, I allowed him to guide me toward the exit. Atlas and Luna followed, his arm wrapped protectively around her waist.

* Princess

36

THIRTY-SIX

HARLOWE

The night air was crisp against my skin. Frank was already waiting with the car, standing at attention beside the open door. Atlas’s security team formed a protective barrier around Luna as we said our goodbyes.

Arrow’s hand remained at my back as he guided me to our waiting vehicle. Frank held the door open; his eyes constantly scanning our surroundings. Once we were safely inside with the doors locked, Arrow relaxed marginally beside me. His fingers found mine in the darkness.

“You were good tonight,” he murmured.

“Don’t sound so surprised,” I replied.

The dinner had left me feeling strangely raw and exposed in ways I hadn’t expected.

“Luna likes you,” he said after a moment of silence.

“I like her too. She’s . . . real.”

“She is.” His voice held a note of fondness I rarely heard. “Atlas is a lucky man.”

“Because she survived?” I asked, turning to study his profile in the dim light.

“Because she stayed. Even knowing what he is, what his family is. She chose to build something with him. She chose to face the chaos with him instead of running from it.”

“Do you think that’s what I’m doing?” I asked. “Choosing chaos with you?”

“Aren’t you?”

I didn’t answer immediately. I looked out at the city rushing past our windows, the neon signs and skyscrapers that had witnessed generations of Virellis and Romanovs tearing each other apart. The same city that would soon witness us trying to put something back together.

“I don’t know what I’m choosing,” I admitted. “But I know what I’m not running from.”

His fingers tightened around mine. “And what’s that?”

“You.” The word was my confession, pulled from somewhere deep and vulnerable. A place I usually kept locked away. “Whatever this is between us—this violence, this hunger—I’m not running from it.”

Without warning, he leaned forward and pressed his lips to mine. It wasn’t gentle. It was claiming.

“Two days,” he whispered against my lips. “Two days, and you’ll be mine in ways that even your father can’t undo.”

Frank cleared his throat from the front seat, reminding us we weren’t alone, and then stopped the car.

Outside the window was a cathedral. St. Ignatius looked like a Gothic dream, with its stained-glass dome and stone gargoyles watching from sharp ledges. It was magnificent with Gothic spires reaching like skeletal fingers into the night sky.

“What are we doing here?” I asked, not moving to get out of the car.

“I thought you might want to see it before you walk down the aisle. Before it’s filled with Virellis and Romanovs pretending not to want each other dead.”

Frank opened my door without a word. The cool night air rushed in, carrying with it the scent of stone and centuries-old incense. Arrow stepped out first, then extended his hand to me. I took it.

The cathedral was even more impressive up close. Weathered stone darkened by decades of city pollution, stained glass windows glowing faintly from the lights within. The massive wooden doors were carved with scenes of saints. and sinners—fitting for our union between our families.

“Is this where you plan to make an honest woman of me?” I asked, my heels clicking on the sidewalk as we approached.