Page 24

“I’m furious because I could have lost you. Could have lost the most important person in my life.” The words came out through gritted teeth as he slammed a hand against the wall beside my head, making me flinch, caging me in without ever truly trapping me. Frustration radiated from every line of his body, his chest rising and falling with each heavy breath as his dark eyes remained locked on mine.

“This war, it was mine to fight. This kingdom, it was mine to save, and your life is mine to protect, and I have fucking failed at all three.” He laughed bitterly and shook his head, the sound carrying no humor whatsoever. “But you… you…” He paused, dragging his free hand through his hair before letting it fall uselessly to his side. “You, my little warrior, my little bird… my anchor… You did it all without needing me.” The vulnerability in his expression was almost harder to bear than the anger. “You put yourself at risk for me, and I…” His voice caught briefly before he forced the words out. “I nearly lost you.”

His gaze dropped momentarily to my throat, to the place where Lazaros’s blade had cut my skin, and I watched his jaw tighten all over again.

“I’m furious with you for nearly taking that away from me, but I am more furious with myself for letting it happen and benefiting from your bravery and your endless courage in ways I could never properly express.”

The hand not braced against the wall found my waist, his fingers tightening there as though reassuring himself I was really standing in front of him. The movement drew him closer until there was barely any space left between us, and suddenly I could feel the warmth of him, the tension still coiled through every muscle in his body.

“But more than anything, I want to lock you away because… I am fucking terrified.” His voice dropped lower then, rougher, stripped bare of everything except the truth. Before I could respond, his hand tightened at my waist, and he yanked me against him, pressing me firmly against his chest as though the thought of letting me go had become physically impossible.

“Because I love you.”

The words hit me harder than any shout ever could.

Before I could respond, his hand left my waist and rose to my face, his fingers sliding gently beneath my chin. The contrast between the fury in his voice and the tenderness of his touch made my chest ache as he tilted my head back, forcing me to meet his gaze.

Up close, I could see everything he had been trying so desperately to hide throughout the argument. The anger was still there. The frustration.

The guilt.

But now that he had finally spoken the truth aloud, it all seemed to blur together, revealing what had been driving every harsh word. Every impossible demand from the very beginning. Not the fear of a king losing a war, nor the fear of a ruler failing his people. But the raw, desperate fear of a man who had come terrifyingly close to losing the person he loved.

His eyes searched mine as though he needed me to understand, needed me to see what every argument and accusation had truly been about. The hand at my waist tightened, pulling me even closer until there was barely any space left between us, while the one beneath my chin remained impossibly gentle. We stood there for a moment, breathing the same air, neither of us speaking as the intensity of his gaze stripped away every defense I had left. There was no anger left between us now, only the weight of everything we had survived to stand here together.

Then he kissed me.

The movement was sudden enough to steal my breath, his mouth crashing against mine with all the desperation he had been holding back since I returned. Weeks of separation, fear, longing, guilt, relief, and love seemed to pour into that single kiss, even though it had only been several days. His hand slid from my chin into my hair, tangling there while his arm wrapped more firmly around my waist. It wasn’t careful, nor was it restrained. It was the kiss of a man who had spent far too long imagining what it would feel like to hold me again. A man who had stood on battlefields believing he might never get the chance, and now that he finally had me in his arms, he seemed incapable of holding anything back.

I kissed him back just as fiercely, my hands fisting in the fabric of his jacket as I melted against him.

Christ, I had missed this.

Missed him.

Missed the warmth of his body, the roughness of his hands, the way he could make everything else disappear with a single touch. The argument, the frustration, and every unresolved question still waiting for us beyond this moment faded further into the background as he pulled me closer still. Holding me against his chest as though he needed constant reassurance that I was truly here. That I had come back to him. That after everything we had endured, after every impossible choice and every mile that had separated us, he hadn’t lost me after all.

The kiss deepened as though neither of us knew how to stop. His hand remained buried in my hair while the other held me securely against him, and for the first time since stepping back through the Rift, the knot of tension that had been wound tight inside my chest truly began to loosen. Because for all the chaos waiting outside this room, for all the conversations still to come, there was one truth neither of us could deny.

I was here.

And so was he.

“Atlas...” I whispered his name against his lips the second I needed to breathe. But he had lingering thoughts of his own, as he lay his forehead against mine and said,

“If something happened to you...” His jaw tightened, and I pulled back just enough to cradle his face with my hands.

“But it didn’t,” I whispered. My hands lost contact with his face when he shook his head and pulled back.

“You may think that I’m trying to control you, but that’s not what this is. It’s not about orders. It’s not about obedience. It’s about the fact that when I imagine this world without you in it...” He swallowed hard, and the pain that crossed his face was so raw it made my chest tighten.

“I can’t breathe, Alexandra.”

Slowly, I lifted my hand and rested it over his heart, feeling the steady beat beneath my palm as I searched for some way to make him understand. Because I did understand. More than he realized. I understood the fear. I understood the helplessness. I understood what it was like to imagine losing someone and feeling as though the very thought might crush you beneath its weight.

“I know,” I said, barely above a whisper. “I do. But you need to see it from my side too.” My fingers curled slightly against his chest as I tried to explain myself, tried to make him see that none of it had been recklessness. “I faced the Rift. I survived the Labyrinth. Theron helped us all so I could make it back to you in time.” The words tumbled out before I had a chance to think about them.

Before I had a chance to stop them.