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“Later,” he says. “Let me just hold you for now.”

We stand there as the water gradually cools, neither of us speaking. Words feel inadequate in the face of what's coming. Instead, we communicate through touch—my fingers tracing the contours of his face, our foreheads pressed together as we breathe the same steamy air.

When the water finally runs cold, Talon reaches behind me to shut it off. The sudden silence is deafening, broken only by the rhythmic drip from the showerhead and our synchronized breathing.

“Come on,” he says gently, reaching for a towel and wrapping it around my body. “Let's get you dry.”

I let him lead me from the shower, leaving puddles in our wake. He guides me to sit on the edge of the bed, then kneels before me, taking a second towel to gently dry my hair. His movements are tender, careful.

“I need to be stronger than this.”

“You are strong,” Talon assures me. “Stronger than anyone I've ever known.”

I shake my head. “Strong people don't fall apart in the shower.”

“Is that what you think strength is? Vesper, you've endured more in the past few years than most people face in a lifetime. You're still standing.”

“Barely.”

Talon sets the towel aside. “Do you know what I see when I look at you? I see a woman who survived The Collector once already. Who escaped and built a new life. Who's willing to walkback into hell to save her brother.” His thumb traces circles on my palm. “That's not weakness, princess. That's the kind of strength most people can't even imagine.”

Something shifts in my chest at his words—not healing exactly, but a momentary easing.

“I don't want to lose anyone else,” I confess.

“Then we don't lose,” he says simply, as if it's a decision we can make.

His certainty steadies me, creates a moment of stillness in the chaos of my mind. I let myself believe him, just for this breath, this heartbeat.

I surge forward, closing the distance between us, capturing his lips with mine. My desperation pours into the kiss, fingers gripping his wet shirt, pulling him closer. His mouth responds instantly, yielding then demanding, matching my intensity with his own.

When he suddenly tenses against me, a small sound escaping his throat, I pull back immediately.

“God, I'm sorry,” I breathe, my fingers hovering over the wet bandage on his shoulder. “Your wound…I wasn't thinking.”

Talon's smile is strained but genuine. “Worth it,” he says, his voice husky. “Though maybe we should get this bandage changed before we continue.”

“Let me,” I say, rising from the bed. I find the medical supplies we keep in the kitchen, bringing them back to where he now sits on the edge of the mattress.

He peels off his soaked shirt, revealing the sodden bandage beneath. I work carefully, my fingers gentle as I remove the wet dressing. The wound is healing well, the angry redness fading to pink around the edges, but it still looks painful. A stark reminder of how close I came to losing him, too.

“Does it hurt much?” I ask softly as I clean around the edges with antiseptic.

“Not anymore,” he lies.

I apply the fresh bandage with methodical care, smoothing the edges with my fingertips.

“Thank you,” he adds as I secure the last piece of medical tape.

“I should be thanking you. For everything.”

Talon captures my hand, bringing it to his lips. “No thanks needed, princess. Not between us. Vesper, I know this isn't the right time. But before we walk into whatever's waiting for us today, I need you to know something.”

I go still, my hand freezing against his chest.

“I love you.” The words hang in the air between us, simple yet profound. “Not just because we're in this impossible situation, not just because of what we've been through together. I love you for who you are. Not for your name, or your family’s legacy, but for the woman standing in front of me who has endured so fucking much and is still fighting, not only for herself, but for us too.”

My breath catches in my throat as he continues.