Chapter 24 – Konstantin
I wake to the antiseptic scent of the medical wing, the faint hum of monitors, and the steady, soft rhythm of Raelyn’s breathing in a chair beside me. Her hand is in mine, warm and grounding, fingers curled around mine as if she’s holding me tethered to life itself.
Lev sits a few feet away, arms crossed, smirk teasing at the corners of his mouth. I glare at him without opening my eyes. “Say something, Lev, and I swear—”
He holds up his hands, still smiling. “I’ve never seen you like this, brother. Wrecked and…relieved. At the same time. It’s…fascinating.”
I groan, pressing my face into the pillow, willing the ache in my shoulder and ribs to fade. Relief. Terror. Fury. Exhaustion. It all tangles in my chest. She’s here. Alive. Safe. And for the first time in hours—or maybe days—I allow myself a fraction of stillness.
I flex my hand, feeling hers tighten around it, and mutter, “She doesn’t know how close it was.”
Lev leans back, shaking his head. “She’ll never truly understand. But that’s what makes her…perfect for you. She sees everything, survives everything. And somehow, you don’t break her.”
I let out a dry laugh, not entirely amused, and shift my gaze toward her. She’s asleep, head tilted slightly forward, soft lines of worry and care still etched into her face from last night. Something inside me claws with protective possessiveness.
I tighten my grip on her hand. “I won’t ever let anything touch her,” I whisper, more to myself than anyone else. “Not ever again.”
Lev watches me, smirk fading into something almost unreadable. “I know exactly how you feel. I’d go to hell for Sasha.”
I’m about to respond when Raelyn stirs. Her eyes flutter open, wide and shimmering with tears, and before I can speak, she climbs onto the bed, pressing herself against me.
Her hands clutch my chest, her face buried near my shoulder.
“You lost so much blood… I was so scared,” she whispers, voice trembling.
I hold her tighter, one hand cradling her head, the other brushing over her back. “I’m fine,” I murmur, voice low and raw. “You’re safe. That’s what matters. The war… it’s over.”
Her tears soak into my shirt, and for the first time in what feels like forever, I allow myself to simply be with her, in the quiet aftermath, knowing we survived it all together.
***
Weeks pass in a blur of aftershocks and recovery.
Investigators from allied networks comb through evidence, decrypt files, and uncover layers of corruption.
Reed’s machinations are laid bare—half a dozen officers toppled, their careers ruined, their complicity exposed.
Markov’s death fractures the web of control he had over the city; territories once suffocating under his thumb breathe freely again.
Hart’s case is officially closed, but for Raelyn and me, the truth carries weight beyond paperwork.
We hold it like a blade tempered in fire—sharp, unyielding, a reminder of what was lost, what was fought for, and what we must never allow to happen again.
The grief is still there, yes, but tempered now with clarity, with purpose, and with the unspoken promise that we—together—are unbreakable.
Today, as I pace the room, waiting for Raelyn to come in from the library, my heart pounds. It’s been two months since everything ended, and they’ve been the happiest days of my life.
Everything settled.
Raelyn returned to school and caught up faster than anyone expected. It was a battle getting her to accept five security guards—we compromised on two.
As if.
I still have three more shadowing her every time she leaves the house.
We tell each other I love you every day. Sometimes in passing. Sometimes whispered against skin in the dark. Sometimes said like a promise we’re daring the world to challenge.
And it’s been bliss.
But one thing remains.
She cried on our wedding night.
Not soft tears. Not overwhelmed joy. Fear. Shock. Trauma. And even though she never says it weighs on her, it has lived inside me ever since. A quiet failure I refuse to accept.
I want to change it.
That’s why I’m pacing our bedroom now, a small black box heavy in my palm. A diamond ring inside—clean, brilliant, chosen with care. Not to replace what we already have, but to reclaim it.
A fresh proposal.
A new wedding.
Just for her.
I hear footsteps outside the door.
I don’t hesitate.
I drop to my knees, open the box, and wait.
The door opens.
Raelyn steps in, a book tucked under her arm, hair loose, glasses slightly crooked. She’s mid-smile when she sees me.
Then she freezes.
Her breath catches.
“Konstantin…?” Her voice trembles, unsure, afraid I might disappear if she says my name too loudly.
I look up at her, heart bare, unarmed in a way no battlefield ever managed.
“I know we’re already married,” I say quietly. “I know the vows were said and the papers signed. But that night—” My jaw tightens. “That wasn’t what you deserved.”
Her eyes shine, tears gathering fast.
“You cried,” I continue. “And not because you were happy. And I promised myself I would never let that be the memory that stayed with you.”
I lift the ring.
“So I’m asking you again. Not in fear. Not in blood. Not in survival mode.”
She drops the book. It hits the floor, forgotten.
“I’m asking you as the man who will give you peace. Choice. Joy. As the man who loves you more than his own breath.”
Her hands fly to her mouth. She sinks to her knees in front of me, tears spilling freely now.
“Yes,” she sobs. “Yes. Of course—yes.”
I slide the ring onto her finger. It fits perfectly. Her hands shake as if she can’t quite believe this is real.
I pull her into my arms, holding her like this moment is sacred—because it is.
“We’ll do it again,” I murmur into her hair. “A real wedding. Light. Music. No guns. No fear.”
She pulls back, forehead resting against mine, eyes wet and shining.
“And this time,” she whispers, voice breaking with joy, “I’ll cry because I’m happy.”
I kiss her—slow, reverent, certain.
Not a vow forged in chaos.
But a choice.
A beginning.
“When do you want to get married?” I ask, my thumb brushing over the new ring like I’m making sure it’s real.
She hums thoughtfully, eyes drifting to the ceiling as if she’s considering the weather.
“Tomorrow.”
I bark out a laugh. “Seriously?”
She turns her head, completely unbothered, lips curving. “Yes. Seriously.”
I shake my head, disbelief and delight tangling in my chest. “You can’t be serious.”
She pushes away from me, studying me—then she tilts her head, that familiar glint sparking in her eyes.
“Aren’t you the king of urgent weddings?” she says sweetly. “Surprise me, Mr. Rusnak.”
Then she winks.
And walk away.
She crosses the room, climbs onto the bed, and stretches out like she owns the world—and me. One knee bent, hair spilling over the pillow, eyes dark and inviting.
She crooks her finger at me.
My pulse kicks hard.
“Careful,” I murmur, straightening slowly, predatory calm settling over me. “If you tempt me like that, I’ll forget I’m supposed to plan a wedding.”
She smiles, lazy and knowing. “Multitask.”
I move toward her, every step deliberate, shedding control with each one. “Tomorrow,” I say, voice low. “Fine. Tomorrow it is.”
I lean down, bracing myself over her, my mouth hovering just above hers.
“But don’t think for a second I won’t make it unforgettable.”
Her breath stutters.
Good.
Because this time, there will be no fear.
No blood. No ghosts in the room.
Just her.
Chosen.
Cherished.
Mine.
***
Because I’m incapable of doing anything halfway—and because I owe her a legend—I plan the wedding myself.
Every detail.
The venue is quiet and private, tucked away from the world, in the Rusnak estate, like a secret meant only for us. Stone, light, snow just beginning to melt at the edges. No crowds. No spectacle. Just intention.
I choose her dress.
Simple. Elegant. No armor this time. No weight.
Something that moves when she breathes, that lets her be soft without being small.
I choose her hair—loose, touched with restraint, the way I like to slide my fingers through it when she thinks I’m not watching.
I pick her bouquet too. White and pale green. Clean. Alive.
It’s not a big wedding. That was never Raelyn.
But it’s perfect.
My brothers are there, all of them, including Lukin and Adrian. Each of them with their wives and children beside them. They look…settled. Dangerous men who found something worth protecting. They nod at me, one by one. No speeches. No teasing. They know what this is.
I tell Raelyn she can invite anyone she wants.
She thinks for a moment, then smiles softly.
“Just Ellie.”
That’s it.
And when the music starts—low, restrained—I see Ellie step forward.
Then Raelyn appears.
My chest locks.
She’s radiant. Not because of the dress. Not because of the room. But because she’s here by choice. Standing tall. Unafraid.
Ellie takes her arm.
And as they start down the aisle, I notice it.
This time, Raelyn looks at everyone.
She smiles. She nods. She even lifts her hand in a small wave, laughing quietly when Ellie whispers something in her ear.
The first wedding, she wouldn’t look up. Wouldn’t look at anyone. She walked like she was bracing for impact.
This time?
She walks like she knows she’s safe.
Her eyes find mine.
And they don’t waver.
Something in me tightens—sharp and aching and grateful all at once. This is what I wanted to give her. Not just a ring. Not just my name.
But a moment untouched by fear.
When she reaches me, Ellie squeezes her hand and steps back. Raelyn stands in front of me, breath steady, eyes bright. Alive.
I take her hands.
They’re warm. Certain.
For a suspended moment, the world narrows to the space between us.
I watch her like she is the only person in existence. Not as a conqueror. Not as a king. But as a man who has already given everything and would give it again without hesitation.
There are no traditional vows. No borrowed words.