Page 139 of The Endless Want

A slow smile pulls at his mouth. “I know.”

“But you’re my bastard.”

His eyes soften in a way that could crack the entire earth.

“Yes?” he asks quietly.

I nod, tears spilling over. “Yes. Yes, Declan. God, yes.”

The room erupts.

Nadia cheers first, loud enough to shake dust from the rafters. Mackenzie screams, grabs Finn’s arm so hard he curses. Someone whoops. Someone cries. Someone slaps someone else on the back.

Declan stands, pulls me into him, and kisses me like he’s been drowning for months and finally hit air. His hands cradle the back of my head, careful of my body, careful of everything. My fingers curl into his shirt. The ring is already on my hand. I don’t even remember him sliding it on.

When he pulls back, he presses his forehead to mine. “We’re doing this.”

“We are.”

“I’m not running.”

“Good,” I murmur. “Neither am I.”

Liam clears his throat behind us. “All right, you two lovebirds, save some of that for after the Russians stop trying to kill us.”

Declan flips him off without turning around. The entire room laughs.

Ten minutes later, the war room looks less like a command center and more like a chaotic family party. Papers are strewn across tables. Someone opened a bottle of whiskey. Rory insists on taking pictures on his cracked phone. Conor hugs me so tightly I wheeze. Liam kisses the top of my head and mutters, “About damn time.”

Nadia holds my hands, examining the ring with misty eyes. “You deserve this,” she says. “You deserve every bit of happiness coming your way.”

Mackenzie slings an arm around my shoulders. “Family dinner. That’s happening. Tonight. No arguments.”

“You’re planning it?” I ask, laughing through tears.

“Absolutely. I’m making a spreadsheet.”

I groan. Nadia cheers.

But Mackenzie isn’t done. “And Gianna lands tonight. The family needs to stick close. Especially now.”

I’m standing in the middle of a war room surrounded by the people who will fight to the death for each other. For me. For the baby. For the life we’re trying to build in the cracks of a battlefield.

Declan catches my eye from across the room. He taps his chest twice with two fingers. I mirror it.

We stay like that for a moment, the noise swirling around us, the world still dangerous and bloody and uncertain, but our promise anchored right in the center of it.

We’re getting married.

CHAPTER 43

Ailish

The first contraction feels like a tightening rope pulled low across my belly—deep, insistent, impossible to ignore. It wakes me before dawn. I breathe through it, one hand pressed over the curve of my stomach, telling the baby softly that everything is fine, that it’s safe, that Father is close.

The second contraction steals my breath.

I clutch the sheets, whispering a shaky curse before calling out, and that’s when the midwife bursts through the door. She must have been waiting for this moment for days, hovering like an anxious guardian angel.