Chapter 32 #2
I moved back to the pane, drawn by the failing illumination. The world outside had transformed: pine trees bent under their white burden, branches drooping toward the ground. Everything softened, muted. Peaceful in a way that seemed almost unreal after the violence we’d survived.
Darkness crept across the landscape, swallowing the distant peaks, the narrow trail we’d hiked in on, the steep slopes. Winter closing in fast.
Wolfe’s warmth pressed against my back. His arms came around me, mindful of my cast, and I leaned into him without thinking. Without hesitation. Our reflections merged in the glass, two shadows becoming one against the fading glow.
“Winter solstice. Shortest day of the year.”
His chin rested on top of my head, and I sensed him breathe me in. “Darkest day.”
“Mm.” I traced patterns in the condensation with my fingertip. Meaningless shapes. “But after today, the illumination starts returning. A little more each day.”
His arms tightened around me. He understood the parallel I was drawing: the darkness we’d walked through, the slow emergence into brightness. After the worst day comes the turning. After the longest night, dawn.
We stood there in silence, observing winter claim the Alps. The temperature was dropping fast now that the sun had disappeared. I could sense chill radiating through the glass despite the hearth at our backs, despite Wolfe’s heat surrounding me.
A sensation slid onto my right hand.
The pressure was so subtle I almost missed it: gentle weight, coolness of metal against skin. Heaviness where there hadn’t been any before.
I looked down.
A band sat on my fourth finger.
My brain stuttered. Simple design, almost industrial: brushed steel or titanium, maybe, with a single small stone set flush into the metal. Dark stone. Midnight blue, catching the glow. Not a diamond. Harder to break, harder to lose.
The kind that belonged on the hand of someone who’d survived impossible things.
“Wolfe.” My voice came out breathless. “What…”
“Well, this is a temporary placement until your cast is gone. Couldn’t risk you getting away.” His voice against my hair carried that deadpan tone that made my heart squeeze. “Seemed prudent to make it official.”
I twisted in his arms, staring up at him. His expression was serious, but warmth lived in his gaze. Vulnerability. “Make what official?”
“Should be mindful of your reputation. You’re a doctor. Very respectable profession. Can’t have you living in sin with a reconditioned operative in a remote refuge.”
Laughter burst out of me. “Respectable? Wolfe, I’m wanted for questioning by half the intelligence agencies in Europe. There’s nothing remotely respectable about any of this.”
“Standards.” His thumb traced over the band, the touch gentle.
I looked at the metal again, then at him. The glow painted him in warm gold, highlighting the sharp line of his jaw, his gaze that held so much now where once they’d been empty. Things I couldn’t always name. But I sensed them radiating from him, steady and sure.
“You’re serious.”
“I’m always serious.”
“You’re proposing. In a remote shelter. While we’re isolated and hiding from a criminal organization.”
“Technically, I already proposed. You’re just now noticing.” The corner of his mouth lifted. “Not my fault you were too busy philosophizing about winter solstice.”
Another laugh bubbled up. “Most men at least ask first.”
“I’m not most men.”
“No.” I touched his jaw, fingers gentle against stubble. “You’re really not.”
The humor faded from his expression, replaced by rawness. “You gave me back my name. My choices. My humanity. Everything they tried to erase. You stood in front of me when my own mind turned against me, and you didn’t run.”
“I couldn’t run from you.” My throat tightened. “You became the thing I was running toward.”
His palm covered mine, pressing it against his cheek, turning into my touch. “I was built to be a weapon. You taught me I could be someone else.”
“You taught me I could break my own rules.” I blinked against the sting in my eyes.
“Risky decision.”
“The best ones usually are.”
Darkness had fully claimed the world outside now. The pane reflected only us, wrapped around each other.
“So,” Wolfe’s voice softened, “are we engaged? Married? What do we call this?”
“I don’t know.” I twisted the band, testing its weight. “We’ve broken so many rules already. Maybe we create our own definition.”
“Our rules.” Fierceness entered his expression.
“Ours.” I rose on my toes to brush my lips against his.
“Then I’m calling it married.”
“You’re calling it… just like that? Without even asking?”
“I did ask.” His mouth curved against mine. “You just weren’t paying attention.”
“You sneak-attacked me with jewelry while I was philosophizing about winter solstice and observing the sunset.”
“Tactical advantage.”
“Unfair advantage.”
“Counts anyway.”
I shook my head, but couldn’t stop smiling, couldn’t stop the joy bubbling up inside me. “You’re impossible.”
“You said yes.”
“I didn’t say anything!”
“You’re wearing it.” His fingers traced up my arm, leaving heat in their wake. “That’s a yes.”
He was right. I was wearing it. And I had no intention of taking it off. Ever.
“Fine. But for the record, this is the strangest proposal in the history of proposals.”
“We’re not exactly conventional.”
“No.” I reached up, threading my fingers through his hair, pulling him down to me. “We’re really not.”
His mouth met mine, and this kiss was different from all the others. Not desperate. Not clinging. Not born from fear or relief or the terror of almost losing each other.
This kiss was a promise.
His touch was mindful of my cast, gentle with my healing body, but the tenderness made my breath catch. Made tears prick at my eyes. Made me feel cherished in a way I’d never allowed myself to want before.
When we finally broke apart, both breathing hard, both smiling, the world outside had gone fully black. Only our reflection remained in the glass: two shadows merged into one, backlit by the flames.
“After the darkest day, the illumination returns.”
“Gradually.” He kissed the corner of my mouth.
“Inevitably.” I kissed him back, tasting the smile on his lips.
And for now, for this stolen moment of peace, this gift of time that winter had given us, that was everything.