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She had moved closer while I was lost in my own head, close enough now that her breath brushed my mouth when she spoke.
“What if I choose this?”
My body went rigid, every muscle locking down. “This?”
“You.”
For one suspended second, there was nothing in my mind—no mission parameters, no Veil protocols, no ghosted records or emergency exits.
Just that single word, echoing.
Me.
Not the Ghost.
Not her protector.
Not an obligation.
Just me.
“Talia.” Her name came out rougher than I intended.
“Not forever,” she clarified, and the words should have been a relief.
They weren’t.
“Not a bond,” she continued, her eyes holding mine. “Not destiny. Not some agreement about tomorrow.”
I understood then what she was offering. What she wasn’t.
“Tonight,” I said, the word barely audible.
“Yes.” Her reply was just as quiet, but certain.
“Because you want me.”
“Yes.”
“And not because you think you owe me something.”
Her gaze sharpened. “That goes both ways.”
I almost objected—old instincts flaring—but stopped myself.
She was right.
“If we do this,” she said, her thumb moving lightly over the inside of my wrist, “it’s because we both choose it.”
“Yes.”
She studied me one last time, her gaze holding mine in the quiet between breaths.
Then she rose onto her toes and closed the distance, her mouth meeting mine.
Control shattered.
My hands found her waist, pulling her against me until our bodies aligned. A soft, surprised sound escaped her—not fear, but breathless acknowledgment—and then her arms were around my neck, fingers tangling in the hair at my nape.
