Page 61 of Freedom’s Inferno

I cupped her face, my thumb brushing away the damp trail of a tear that hadn’t yet fallen.

Her skin was warm, and her breath unsteady. She leaned into my hand like she’d been waiting her whole life for somewhere to rest.

“Lana,” I said, her name both a curse and a prayer.

Her hand slid to my chest, fingers curling in the fabric of my shirt, pulling me closer.

Whatever line we’d been walking dissolved, and there would be no turning back from it. I shouldn’t have leaned closer, but I did.

Her breath hitched as my forehead touched hers. Neither of us moved. The space between us crackled with electricity, stretched to its limit. Her breath mingled with mine, warm and carrying the faint sweetness of coffee.

My hand still rested on her cheek, thumb tracing the delicate edge of her jaw.

She looked at me like she was afraid to breathe, as if any sudden movement might break whatever spell had wound itself between us.

I leaned in, slow and uncertain, the kind of motion that asked permission without words.

Her eyes fluttered closed, and the ghost of her mouth brushed mine, the smallest contact, soft as a sigh.

Nothing and everything.

Her fingers tightened against my chest, a tremor running through her, mirroring my own.

The hesitation broke, and the kiss deepened. It started gently, tentative. Then hunger took over, and neither of us reached for the reins. Grace had no part in it. Only desperation. Our mouths found each other with a kind of urgent ferocity, the kind born from too many nights spent pretending we didn’t want this.

She made a small, fractured sound against my lips that broke me.

I rose, shifting my balance, one hand braced on the mattress beside her thigh, the other still cradling her face. The angle changed, deepening the kiss.

Her breath caught, and it vibrated through me.

I moved forward another inch, then another, until I wasn’t crouching anymore but kneeling between her legs, my body following the pull of hers. The mattress dipped beneath my weight.

I guided her back with a gentle hand, my palm finding the small of her back as I eased her onto the bed. The movement was careful, reverent, like lowering something breakable.

She sank into the sheets, her hair fanning out against the pillow, her eyes still locked on mine.

Bracing myself on my forearms, I followed her down.

The heat of her body radiated against mine.

The kiss reignited, deeper this time, hungry and unrestrained. The world outside ceased to exist, save for the rhythm of our breathing, the taste of her mouth, and the way her fingers dug into my shoulders. In that moment, everything I was—every guilt, every failure, every fragment of my sanity—burned down to one simple truth: I wanted her. Entirely. Irrevocably.

Chapter 26

Lana

Iwasn’t sure what happened. The fear had been everything; thick in my throat, pressing down on my chest, a storm I couldn’t see my way through. The impossible weight of what lay ahead felt too heavy to carry: Costa’s men, the threats, and the uncertainty of every hour that passed. My mind was a blur of worst-case scenarios, and all the ways this could end badly.

I don’t know when things shifted. I don’t know whether it happened when he said my name in that low, steady voice, or when his hand found mine and held it like he was trying to anchor me to the earth. Somewhere between the breath I couldn’t catch and the one I finally managed, the panic had begun to fade. The world fell away until only he remained. Charlie.

I looked up at him.

He hovered above me, framed by the dim light spilling in from the hall.

Shadow partially concealed his face, his expression caught somewhere between restraint and something far deeper. The sight of him like that, the tension in his shoulders, the way he held himself as if he might break something sacred by mistake, coiled something low in my stomach.

I wasn’t afraid anymore. For the first time in my life, safety didn’t hinge on self-reliance. It meant trusting him.