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I bite back a smile. Ever since I taught her how to use the waffle iron at the breakfast buffet a few weeks ago, she’s been obsessed. Every Sunday morning, without fail: waffles with different toppings, each attempt more elaborate than the last. It’s her way of reclaiming something from her past, I think—the girl who loved pink and sparkles and sweetness, before Grandmother tried to crush those parts of her.

“Deal,” I agree, squeezing her hand. “Waffles it is.”

She smiles—a real, full smile that still takes my breath away when I see it—and pulls me back toward the party. As we rejoin our friends, our new family, I’m struck by how far we’ve all come.

We still have our demons. We all still wake up from nightmares sometimes, still carry the weight of our pasts. But we’re not alone anymore. We have each other. We havefamily—the one we’ve chosen, the one we’ve found, the one we’re building together day by day.

And that, I think as I look around at my brothers and sisters in the Styx Syndicate, is the most powerful thing of all.

Later that night, after the celebration winds down, Ariadne walks me back to my dorm room. But the room suddenly feels too small for us, too temporary for what we’ve become.

“You know,” I say as we linger outside my door, “full members get rooms in the mansion.” Of course she knows. But I’m feeling weirdly shy all of a sudden.

Ariadne nods. “Lyssa mentioned we’d be relocating next week.”

I take a deep breath, gathering my courage. “What would you think about us sharing a space? Together?”

Her eyebrows raise slightly, and for a moment I worry I’ve pushed too far, too fast. But then I see it—that soft warmth in her eyes that she reserves only for me.

“You want to live together?” she asks, her voice careful but hopeful.

“I do,” I tell her, taking her hands in mine. “I love falling asleep next to you, and I love waking up with you even more. And honestly, I’m tired of sneaking between our rooms or trying to be quiet when your neighbors are around.”

Ariadne laughs softly. “Youareterrible at being quiet.”

“That’s your fault,” I counter, grinning.

She studies me for a long moment, then nods. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Let’s do it,” she says, more firmly this time. “Let’s share quarters.”

My heart soars. Another step forward, another piece of our life together falling into place. “Really?”

Instead of answering, she leans in and kisses me—slow and deep and full of promise. When we finally break apart, she rests her forehead against mine.

“I love you,” she whispers. “And I want to build a home with you.”

“Even though I’ll mess up your perfect organization system?”

“Even though,” she agrees with a smile.

I look up at her—this incredible woman who’s fought through so much darkness to find her way to me. Our story isn’t perfect. We both carry scars that will never fully heal. But we’ve found something rare and precious in each other—a love that strengthens and heals.

“This is our beginning,” I tell her, feeling the promise of our future stretching before us. “We have so much more of our story to write.”

“Together,” she says, and in that single word is everything I’ve ever wanted—commitment, partnership, love.

“Together,” I echo, rising on my tiptoes to seal the promise with a kiss. From lost girls to found family. From broken weapons to whole women. From rivals to something real, something neither of us thought we’d ever have.

And whatever comes next—danger, adventure, missions in far-off cities—we’ll face it side by side, bound by a thread that neither time nor distance can break.