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Amaia

T here are people the world seems to chew up and spit out. Perpetual victims of the universe. Like it was testing how much they could take before they broke. People who were stubborn in a way that made it impossible for them to lay down arms no matter how many times they hit the ground.

These are the individuals society loves to call heroes. But they’re not. They’re survivors. And part of me believed everyone left alive in this moment of time had a little bit of that in them. I wasn’t quite sure if the idea of that scared me or brought me great joy.

Our gates had closed permanently days ago. We weren’t hiding our lack of cooperation anymore. He’d bought our story about the cavalry—for now. At first, our performance in front of Bietoletti and the others had been convincing enough for them to report back exactly as I’d hoped. Ronan would never believe I’d offer up people without a fight.

When the sympathizers showed up at his first camp, the gig would be up. Yet his emissaries remained. Waiting, watching. For what, I had no idea. I could’ve tossed them out before we locked down, but as with Hunter, I preferred to keep people where I could see them. Let them think they were keeping an eye on us while I did the same. They only saw what I wanted them to see, and I was certain the feeling was mutual.

But with the gates sealed and under close watch, their only way to communicate with the outside world was through monitored messengers. Which meant they’d have to get creative. And fuck, I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t daring them to try.

Knowing we’d saved lives didn’t sit as cleanly when I knew it’d cost any honest people theirs that now camped outside our walls. Hoping. Praying. Pleading to let them in. Keeping Monterey Compound safe didn’t exactly ease the guilt of slipping past weary families to steal a quiet moment by the rocks.

I dove beneath a wave, letting the cold water swallow me as I sank a few feet below. Pulling my knees to my chest, I hung there, suspended in the nothingness of the bay. The weight of the world slipped away for a fleeting moment. Stars danced behind my eyelids, lungs on the verge of collapse, and I surged upward. The sounds of my gasps were swallowed by the quick bark of a greeting from Suckerpunch. I turned back toward the shore. Alexiares stood there, arms crossed as he took me in.

“Come and get me!” I called out over the crashing waves. The current fought me now. It tugged my body further out to sea, making it more of an effort to tread. The strain was welcome— a reminder of where I was. What was real. But even as the water pulled at me, my focus stayed fixed, drawn like a tide to him.

He didn’t respond, but he didn’t hesitate, either. With practiced ease, he stripped off his boots, cargos, and shirt, leaving them in the sand before stepping into the waves. The water calmed the nearer his presence grew. Moving to the call of his power and slowing to his will.

We didn’t speak. For a few minutes, all we heard was the ocean and the quiet rise and fall of our bodies as I wrapped myself around him, resting my head on the cusp of his neck. He treaded water for the both of us. The weight of everything hung there in the silence—unspoken, undeniable. Yet him being here, holding me, us holding each other—it was grounding, in a way the ocean alone could never be.

I raised my head, resting my forehead against his, the world shrinking until it was just us. His eyes sparkled in the falling light of the day. Water traced lazy paths down his face, catching on the ink that curled over his tan, sculpted body. I closed the distance, pressing my lips to his. Alexiares’s hands slid around my waist, drawing me closer until every inch of me was pressed against him. The ocean swirled around us. I tasted the salt on his skin, the sensation stealing my thoughts and sending my pulse racing. My lips tingled, my heart thundered. The chaos inside me stilled.

“Come back to the rocks with me?” he asked, falling to his back and pulling me toward the beach.

I closed my eyes, floating, his arm steady beneath my shoulders, guiding me effortlessly through the water. The waves lapped at my sides. When the pebbled, sandy floor tickled my toes, I opened my eyes, blinking against the fading sunlight. Letting go of his hand as we waded to the shoreline wasn’t an option I was willing to consider.

Harley pranced toward us, licking the salty water off my arms and legs. I pulled my shirt and shorts back on, leaving my weapons off to the side. I didn’t need them right now. Not with him by my side. The fear left my body when we fought together.

Three crows flew above our heads in tight arrow formation. Their caws echoed sharply against the sky. I tracked them until they fluttered out of sight, my gaze settling back on the sand and rock melting into the fiery hues of the setting sun. But Alexiares wasn’t watching the sunset. His eyes were on me. Unflinching. It made me feel as though I were the only thing worth noticing. Rare was a moment untouched by chaos with us. Far too rare.

“You’ve been staring at me nonstop the last few days,” I said, shaking my head and hiding a tender smile on my shoulder. “More than usual. I’m starting to feel like prey.”

“Amaia …”

“I love you,” I interrupted.

The words weren’t planned, but they were true—etched into every corner of my being. I’d been a coward to not have said them before now when I’d felt this way for months. From the moment that I woke until the time I closed my eyes at night, I wanted to be by his side. Every meal was incomplete unless we shared it. In those rare moments of relief, I found them best spent with him. But of all the terrors in this broken world, love was the most foolish to fear.

Alexiares glanced away, his shoulders stiffening as if bracing for a blow. His throat bobbed with a hard swallow. “No.”

“No?”

“You don’t say those words.”

I was going to throw up and evidently, so was he. Panic carved itself across his face—caught somewhere between the urge to leap off a cliff and the temptation to stand at the edge, pretending the void wasn’t calling.

“The world as we know it is probably going to end … again. Is being in love truly such a terrible thing?”

He froze, my words cutting through whatever storm brewed in his head. His eyes darted away, then back to me, guilt flickering in their depths.

“No,” he said, his voice soft. Tender in a way I’d never heard from him before. “I don’t think it’s a terrible thing at all, Princess.” He tilted his head, those eyes of his locking onto mine and I knew, somehow, I was the only thing keeping him tethered. “Especially if that love is coming from you.”

Heat rose to my cheeks. “Okay, then say it back,” I demanded. “Because I feel really fucking stupid over here.”

A slow, lopsided smile tugged at his lips. “How about I say it back for the rest of our lives?”

“You’re crazy,” I muttered. Was my heart fluttering inside my chest like a butterfly with rabies? Absolutely. I could only hope he couldn’t hear it.

“And you’re insane,” he countered, his face hanging low to capture me in a kiss. Sweet and sobering.

When we broke apart, his hands lingered on my face, his thumb brushing over my cheek. He leaned in close, his breath warm between us. “I don’t feel like such a monster when I’m with you. Stuck in that pit of hell Sloan called a home, you made yourself a safe space for me when you didn’t have to. Fuck, it would’ve been easier for you if you hadn’t. I didn’t deserve the benefit of the doubt—not with you, not with the lies I’ve told or the past I’ve hidden. You walked through flames with me, Amaia, several times despite everyone’s best wishes. And that … that’s just one thing on a list of many that makes you one hell of a woman.”

I swallowed hard, his words unraveling me, but I kept quiet.

“There’s compassion in your heart, that you refuse to let the world strip away,” he continued. The emotion and devotion in which he spoke moved me to tears. “You don’t hide it; you wear it on your sleeve and dare anyone to take it from you. It’s fascinating, truly. That’s not even one of the top five reasons I admire you. You gave me freedom when I didn’t think I deserved it. You forgave me without saying the words, even knowing every awful thing I’ve done. And you love me anyway.

“The way you make me feel … fuck, I don’t know what to do with myself. Jump for joy like an idiot? Fall to my knees and thank a God I’m not even sure I believe in for allowing me to breathe the same air as you? When I’m away from you, all I feel is an ache that doesn’t stop until you’re back in my arms. And that leads me to the most important point of my life: There was a time when I didn’t think I’d live past twenty, and then twenty-five. At twenty-eight, I’m still here and for once, I don’t hate it. I want to grow old and I want to do that with you.”

He grabbed my left hand, dropping to his knee. My heart lurched as he fumbled in his pocket and pulled out a ring. My ring. The ring.

“Holy shit,” I gasped, snatching my hands away and covering my mouth. “You keep a lot of weird shit in your pockets, Bloodhound , but this? This was the last thing I expected. Have you been carrying that around for months?”

“Ever since I realized it will always be you.”

I grew anxious and pulled him into another kiss. From hatred, love is born. It had been less than a year since Alexiares had walked into my life, but everything with him felt unarguably right. Like I was in the right place at the right time and though everything else around me fell apart, he was my sun. My North Star. I would always orbit around him. Drawn inescapably by the gravity of who he was. I poured every unspoken promise into that kiss, every shred of hope I dared to hold on to in a world that threatened to strip it away.

His hand found mine when I pulled away, his touch deliberate, certain. The edges of the coffin-shaped ring caught the light, scattering faint prisms in the falling light.

“I understand,” he began, his voice thick with emotion, “that you have … fears about love. About spending forever with someone. And I don’t blame you for that, Amaia. I don’t fear death. If I’m honest, I would take a never-ending amount of painful deaths if only it meant I got to spend another moment with you. The only thing I fear in this world is living a life without Amaia Bennett—soon to be Drakos—in it.”

My lips twitched into a smile, a warmth blooming in my chest that I couldn’t suppress. “I said you’re my infinity, didn’t I? Promise me something?” I whispered.

“Anything,” he said, his thumb brushing tenderly against my cheek.

“Live,” I murmured. “No matter what, live .”

He nodded, solemn, the smallest hint of a morbid smile. “Cross my heart.”

He slipped it onto my finger, the cool metal warming against my skin. My hand trembled as I stared down at it, the reality of it all settling in.

“It’s perfect,” I whispered. The words a reflection of both the ring and the man standing before me.

“You’re perfect,” he replied without hesitation. “This is forever, Amaia. Even if the rest of the world falls apart, even if everything burns—I’m with you.”

My gaze lifted to meet his, a playful grin slipping past the seriousness of the moment. “That’s a lot of confidence. Sure you can keep up with me?”

“I’ve already been running after you this long. I’m not about to stop now.”

The sharp crunch of footsteps in the sand behind us shattered the fragile silence. Instincts took over. We exchanged no words, simply moved in sync as we turned, hands raised, magic crackling to life. My fire burned in my palms. Golden-orange glow illuminated on the dimming beach—a mirror image of the sunset. Water thundered to life behind us, twisting and leaping with the restless energy of a storm bound by threadbare reins.

“Woah, calm down. It’s just me.” Reina paused a few feet away, her own water bubbling around her in defense. “Crazies,” she muttered.

Relief hit me, but it was temporary. The last time she’d come to find me on an afternoon off, my fiancé was assassinated. “What are you doing out here?”

Reina was armed with her bow and arrow, pistol at her hip, knife at her thigh. Slowly but surely, she’d increased her artillery. I’d never so much as seen her shoot a gun five months ago. Now, it was a staple in her everyday apparel. For a moment, she was taking scissors to it every week. But she’d finally stopped, and silly me to think it meant she’d recovered from the misery of betrayal. It bristled over her shoulders and touched the thick army green straps of her crop top.

“Looking for you, obviously ,” she said, hands on her hip as she animatedly spoke. “Hunter’s heading to The Kitchens for dinner. It’s been a few days of him being out and about. No one’s looked at him twice, so it’s probably safe to meet. Plus, last night, when Adelaide came for bedtime stories, I was braiding her hair … Jessa made us hot chocolate, which like, where’d she even get the chocolate from? We don’t have any ready to harvest, since it’s not a priority. Yet another hidden thing about?—”

“Fucking Christ, Reina. Focus.” Alexiares pinched the bridge of his nose.

Reina gave him a once-over, then shook her head slowly, her smile bright and honest. “Hunter mentioned when he picked her up that he figured out some plan to save the world. God, you know, you and him have a lot in common, Maia. Always scheming. Anyway, I’m headed there now and Riley said I could find you here. So, yeah. Let’s go.”

She dropped down to greet the dogs. Their tails wagged violently, slobbering her with kisses, reveling in the purity of her joy when she rubbed them. Alexiares shifted, his expression carefully neutral as he met my glance. He shook his head once. I tucked my hands behind my back, walking ahead of him and allowing him to fall in line. One night. We only wanted one night to enjoy what this meant, just us, no one else. Lately, the only time we were alone was at bedtime—too tired to talk, we settled into silence. It wasn’t the same.

I barely made it a few paces before realization smacked me. “Damn it,” I muttered, spinning on my heel. “The guns.”

“You’re welcome.” Reina waved my weapon belt over her head. I reached out to grab them, remembering all too late of what I’d wanted to hide. “Why are y’all being so?—”

Her eyes squinted, focused on the sparkle that even a barely lit sky could not hide. She rushed over, grabbing onto my hand with unexpected strength. “Oh my God. What’s that? Did you propose?”

“No,” Alexiares’s voice was laced with sarcasm. “I just wanted her to feel pretty.”

Reina lifted my hand up near her face, stretching my finger in angles and lengths I hadn’t thought possible. “That is a terribly gaudy piece of hardware. You couldn’t rob a jewelry store or something? Let me guess, you can excuse murder and torture, but robbery is where you draw the line?”

“It’s what I wanted, Reina.” I snatched my hand back and flexed the fingers in a deliberate twirl. A faint smile played on my lips.

“Oh. I love that … that ring. It’s very … you.” Reina grimaced, the forced grin truly comical. “I’m really happy for you, Maia. This is good. Good things are happening. Aw man, I love love.”

She tugged us into a group hug. Alexiares grumbled but didn’t resist. It had taken time for him to get here, to become accustomed to Reina’s inability to respect others’ space or any sort of affection, to be frank. I’d loved the Alexiares who stood tall with me through the raw beauty and pain of life, the one willing to let his beast take control—but the softness and peace of this version of him … happy looked good on him. Reina sniffled, happy tears falling down her pink tinted cheeks.

“Thanks,” I said with the roll of my eyes. “Let’s not make it a thing?”

“A thing?” Reina stared at me like I’d told her I saw a pig flying in a pink tutu. “I’m going to make this the biggest event Monterey’s ever seen. Ugh, young love. It’s so beautiful. Don’t make this a thing. Honestly, Maia, I’d ask you if you were drunk, but that would be considered insensitive.”

Reina walked ahead of us mumbling to herself as she worked out a to-do list of everything she needed. The dogs ran ahead, scouting out the way and making sure we had a clear path home. Alexiares laced his fingers through mine, tugging for my attention, horror filling his eyes.

“We aren’t doing that,” he said.

“No.” I laughed, covering it with a cough, before Reina turned around. “No, we are not. I have an idea.”

“You have a lot of ideas.” That slip of his accent with a musical cadence of the vowels made my heart thunder. “Most of which I hate.”

“You’ll like this one.”

His fingers toyed with the ring slightly loose on my finger as we made our way back to The Compound. “I doubt that, Princess. But where you go, I follow.”