Chapter 29
Afew weeks later…
Mariah
The city looked so different.
The fires had burned out, the streets cleared of rubble, and for the first time in my life, the air didn’t smell like smoke or blood or rot. It smelled like fresh rain.
Like the faint promise of life starting anew.
I led Varek through the narrow alleys that wound toward the slums where I used to live. It had been forever since I’d been back here, not since Kendra, Lia, and I had shared an apartment in a crumbling tenement building, trading rations and whispered dreams under flickering lights.
“I can’t believe this place is still standing,” I said, glancing up at the building’s weathered face. “Guess even the wolves didn’t think it was worth tearing down.”
We walked up to the third floor and when we reached the door, I kicked it gently.
It creaked open, dust motes swirling in the afternoon light.
The apartment was small, but we had made it our own.
Lia had put stickers all over the back of the door and I’d painted the walls with several sweeping murals to brighten up the place.
It still smelled faintly like the old days: musty, a little sweet, almost like someone had left a candle burning years ago and forgot to blow it out.
Varek stood just inside the doorway, his frame filling the small space, eyes scanning the room like a soldier entering a new battlefield.
“This is where you plotted your great escape?” he asked.
“Plotted and failed more like.” I crossed the room, brushing my hand along the windowsill.
“Kendra, Lia, and I used to sit right here and talk about what we’d do if the Council fell.
If we were free. I wanted to see the mountains.
Lia wanted to find the ocean. Kendra just wanted to get a tan pretty much anywhere the sun would shine. ”
His voice softened. “You can do all of that now.”
“Maybe,” I said, glancing back at him with a smirk. “If you play your cards right, maybe I’ll let you come along.”
His grin widened. “Let me?”
“You heard me.” I stepped closer, tilting my chin up to meet his gaze. “You might be a big, bad commander, but don’t forget who saved your ass more than once.”
He laughed, low and rough. “Is that what you call it?”
“That’s what you should call it.”
He reached out, catching my wrist and pulling me close. The heat between us was immediate, electric. His hand slid to my waist, his thumb tracing the edge of the scar there.
“You always this bossy?” he asked.
“Only when I’m right,” I said, standing on tiptoes and leaning in until my breath brushed his ear. “And I’m always right.”
He pretended to sigh. “I thought it was because you were fearless.”
“Oh, I’m that too.” My grin widened. “But you can admit it—you like a woman who gives orders.”
His gaze darkened, and he laughed again, shaking his head. “You’re dangerous when you get like this.”
“Then maybe,” I said, my fingers sliding up to the collar of his shirt, tugging him down just slightly, “you should stop standing there and do something about it.”
For a moment, neither of us moved. The air hummed between us, warm and charged. Then he did exactly that, his hands gripping my hips, his mouth finding mine.
The kiss started soft, then deepened into something that sank deep into the center of my soul. When we finally broke apart, I rested my head against his chest. He threaded his fingers through my hair.
I tilted my head up, smiling faintly. “What’s this? My commander taking orders from me? I like this version of you.”
“Don’t get used to it,” he said, though his grin betrayed him.
“Too late,” I teased, pulling him back down for another kiss.
We stayed there, breathing the same quiet air, listening to the faint sounds of life drifting up from the street below, children laughing, someone hammering wood, a dog barking somewhere off in the distance. The city was still scarred, still fragile, but it was alive. And somehow, so were we.
I thought of everyone we’d lost, of everyone who’d bled to give us this moment, and silently promised them I wouldn’t waste it.
Tomorrow would bring new problems, it always did, but tonight, in this quiet ruin reborn into something like home, we finally had the one thing neither of us had dared to hope for.
Peace.