Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
ORION VOSS
T he only sound in the room is our breathing—deep, slow, steady.
I keep my arms wrapped around Vivienne, our bodies tangled together, the heat between us still lingering. I feel the soft rise and fall of her chest against mine, the warmth of her bare skin pressed to my own.
For the first time in years, I feel at peace.
But I know it won’t last.
I stroke my fingers down her spine, absently tracing the curve of her body. She doesn’t pull away. Instead, she melts into me, letting herself be held.
A part of me still can’t believe she’s here—that she’s mine again.
That she was always mine.
I press a kiss to her hair, inhaling the faint scent of wildflowers and something purely Vivienne.
I don’t know how to say what’s weighing on my chest, so I just let the words fall.
“I’m sorry,” I murmur.
She stiffens slightly. “For what?”
I pull back just enough to look at her, my hand sliding down to rest over her wrist—over the mark that now binds us together.
“For this,” I say. “For binding us. I didn’t mean to?—”
She silences me with a soft press of her lips to mine. It’s quick, gentle, sure.
When she pulls back, her eyes are steady. Clear.
“I would have chosen it,” she says softly. “Even if you hadn’t.”
I stare at her, searching for hesitation.
There isn’t any.
A sharp ache twists in my chest. I cup her face, my thumb brushing over her cheek. “Vivienne, your entire life?—”
“Was never really mine,” she interrupts.
I go still.
She holds my gaze, her fingers sliding up my chest, over the scars there, the ridges of old wounds, as if she’s memorizing every inch of me.
“I spent my whole life running, Orion,” she whispers. “From them. From my magic. From myself.” Her throat works as she swallows, her fingers tracing absent patterns over my skin. “I was surviving. That was all. I never let myself want anything because I was always afraid I wouldn’t get to keep it.”
She lifts her wrist, pressing our marks together.
“But I get to keep this.”
My breath catches.
“I get to keep you.”
I shake my head, exhaling sharply. “They will hunt us, Vivienne.”
Her lips curve slightly, but there’s no humor in it.
“They already were.”
I let out a low, bitter laugh. She’s right.
The Order has always been coming for her. For us.
I run my fingers through her hair, feeling the silken strands slip between my fingers. “And you’re okay with this?”
She lifts herself up on one elbow, leaning over me, her long hair spilling around us. “Orion.” Her voice is soft, steady. “There was no life for me without you.” Her lips brush mine, a whisper of warmth. “But I do have one now.”
Fuck.
She kills me with those words. Destroys me.
I cup the back of her neck and pull her down into another kiss, slow and deep, savoring every second.
Because we don’t know how many of these moments we’ll get.
And I refuse to waste them.
She sighs against my lips, her body relaxing, softening against me. I slide my hand down her back, feeling the curve of her waist, the warmth of her skin. She presses closer, but there’s no urgency now, just the quiet comfort of belonging.
Of finally being where we were always meant to be.
For a while, neither of us speaks.
We just hold each other, breathe each other in.
Outside, the wind howls, rattling the wooden beams of the safehouse.
But in here, wrapped around each other, the storm can’t touch us.
I feel her breathing slow, feel the way her body grows heavier as exhaustion pulls at her.
She’s safe.
She’s mine.
And when I let my own eyes slip closed, my last thought is that—for the first time in years—I feel safe too.
The End...
...for now.