Page 144 of Shadow Waltz

I closed my eyes, picturing Reddick’s haunted face, the way he’d hunted us not for justice, but for a chance to save someone he’d already lost. “Maybe it was mercy. For him, at least.”

“For us?” Luka’s voice cracked.

I squeezed his hand. “For us, it was survival.”

A long pause, then he leaned closer, forehead nearly touching mine, voice so low I almost missed it. “I would’ve burned the city for you.”

I let myself smile, small and crooked. “You nearly did.”

He laughed, sharp and wet. “Don’t make me regret it.”

I shook my head, weak but certain. “You won’t.”

He brushed hair off my forehead, thumb lingering against my skin. “I used to hate this place,” I admitted, searching the familiar shadows. “Every inch was a cage. But it doesn’t feel like that now. Not with you here. Not after everything.”

Luka’s gaze dropped, and for once he let the vulnerability stay. “It was never the marble or the glass, Ash. It was always about who I was building it for. Who I wanted to keep safe.”

A tear slipped down my cheek, stinging in its honesty. “Are we safe now?”

“For as long as I can make it so,” he whispered, and the promise felt bigger than the city, bigger than either of us.

He shifted, sliding onto the bed beside me, careful not to jar the wound. I turned, pressing my face into his shoulder, breathing in the scent of him—gunpowder, soap, fear, and home.

He held me, one arm circling my waist, his other hand still tangled with mine. “Everything’s gone,” he murmured. “The organization, the power, the safety net. We’re just… us.”

“That’s all I ever wanted,” I whispered, voice breaking. “Not the world. Just you.”

He pressed a kiss to my temple, soft and desperate. “I have resources hidden. Money. Identities. We can disappear if we have to. Start over, somewhere they’ll never find us.”

I pulled back, searching his face. “Are you sure?”

He nodded. “I’d rather lose everything than lose you.”

Emotion swelled between us, bruised and raw and real. “It still hurts,” I admitted. “All of it. I keep seeing him—Reddick. The look in his eyes.”

Luka’s expression darkened. “He was a ghost long before I shot him. I just… let him rest.”

A shudder ran through me, and Luka pulled me closer, tucking my head under his chin. “It’s going to be hard,” he said. “There’s no map for what comes next. Just us.”

“Good,” I said, closing my eyes as exhaustion pulled at me again. “I’d follow you anywhere.”

His arms tightened, steady as a heartbeat. “Sleep, Ash. I’ll be right here.”

I let myself drift, heartbeat syncing with his, the city’s noise a distant hum beyond the glass. When I woke hours later, Luka hadn’t moved, still holding me as if I might vanish if he let go.

Dawn painted the penthouse silver and gold, and for the first time in what felt like forever, I let myself believe in a future. One built from ruins, from blood and ash and the stubbornness of two men who refused to let go.

When Luka finally spoke, it was with the quiet awe of someone still learning how to hope. “You saved me, too, you know.”

I smiled, thumb tracing the back of his hand. “I guess we’re even, then.”

“Not even,” he said, pressing his lips to my brow. “Just… us.”

Outside, the city kept moving, oblivious. Inside, we built something new—shaky and imperfect, maybe, but ours. And for the first time, it felt like enough.

The cityoutside Luka’s penthouse was a living storm of glass and noise, but inside, for the first time in years, it felt like I could breathe. Three days had passed since the blood and chaos of the tunnels, and most of my pain had faded to a dull ache—a reminder that I was still alive, still here, and still someone Luka Markovic would cross continents to protect.

Not that he was letting me forget it.