Page 54

“I couldn't stay in that room anymore.” Her voice carries no anger now, just resignation. “Four walls. Four hours. Too much time to think.”

I nod once, still facing the window. The compound's floodlights cast harsh shadows across the grounds. Armed men patrol the perimeter—no longer keeping her in, but keeping others out until the exchange.

“Your father will be waiting.” The words taste like ash.

“Yes.” A single syllable, heavy with meaning.

I turn, finally, allowing myself to look at her. Her face is composed, that brilliant mind already calculating survival strategies for her return. Only her eyes betray her—the same devastation I feel clawing at my insides.

“You'll be safe.”

“Of course.”

We stand in silence, two soldiers before battle, knowing what comes next but unable to retreat. The space between us stretches like a minefield. One wrong step and everything detonates.

“I need to check the transport vehicles.” Another lie. They've been ready for hours.

She nods, arms crossed protectively over her chest. “And I should try to sleep.”

Neither of us moves. The clock on the wall counts down our remaining time together. Tick. Tick. Tick.

When she finally speaks again, her voice is so quiet I almost miss it.

“In another life, Erik Ivanov...”

I swallow hard, forcing steel into my spine. “There is no other life, Katarina. Only this one.”

Her chin lifts slightly—that defiance I've come to crave—but her eyes glisten with unshed tears. I look away before mine do the same.

Three heartbeats pass. The distance between us suddenly becomes unbearable.

“Fuck rationality,” I growl, closing the space between us in two strides.

My hands find her face, tilting it up as my mouth crashes down on hers. She makes a small sound—surprise or relief, I can't tell—before her body melts against mine. Her fingers dig into my shoulders, pulling me closer with desperate strength.

This kiss is different. Raw. Final. Everything we can't say aloud poured into the press of lips and clash of teeth. I taste salt and realize she's crying. Or maybe I am. It doesn't matter anymore.

I back her against the wall, lifting her easily. Her legs wrap around my waist, ankles locking behind me like she'll never let go. But she will. In under four hours, she will.

“I can't—” The words break against her neck as I press my face there, breathing her in one last time. “I can't just hand you over to him.”

Her fingers thread through my hair, pulling back, so I have to look at her. Those fierce green eyes bore into mine, wet with tears but still defiant.

“You can. You will.” Her voice doesn't waver. “We both knew this wasn't forever.”

“It could be.” The words escape before I can stop them.

She silences me with another kiss, gentler this time, her thumbs stroking my cheekbones. When she pulls back, her smile is heartbreaking.

“Not in this life.” She whispers, but they're softened by the way her body still clings to mine. “But right now is still ours.”

I carry Katarina to my room, her legs still wrapped around my waist, our lips never parting. Each step feels like a march toward something inevitable—not just the exchange, but this moment between us.

When I lower her to my bed, I don't crush her beneath my weight as I've done before. Instead, I hover above her, studying her face like I'm memorizing every detail. Maybe I am.

“I want to remember you,” I whisper, brushing her hair from her forehead. “Every part of you.”

Her eyes meet mine, and I see the same desperate memorization happening behind them. Her fingers trace my jawline, feather-light.