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Chapter Forty-Seven

D amian

Six Months Later

The sanctuary’s training grounds are filled with movement as Maya demonstrates a combination to our newest security recruits. Her movements flow like water, ancient and modern techniques blending seamlessly. The students watch with rapt attention—who wouldn’t, seeing such grace and power working in harmony?

“Perfect form, Fortis ,” I call in English from the sidelines, enjoying how my use of the Latin endearment still makes her smile.

She completes the demonstration and then sends the recruits to practice. As they pair off, she joins me on the observation deck we built last month. Varro and Laura have dreams of charging for visitors to observe us. They’re always thinking of ensuring our financial security as well as public acceptance. They’re the perfect couple to lead our endeavors.

We watch as Second Chance buzzes with purposeful activity.

“The gym sale finally closed,” she says, leaning into my side. “Seems strange to let it go. For so long, it was my dream, the pinnacle of all my aspirations. But now, it’s in my rearview mirror. This is where I’m meant to be.” She reaches on her toes to steal a flying kiss. “It’s like the end of an era.”

“And the beginning of a new one.” My arms circle her waist as we watch the training below. “You’re building something remarkable here.”

She has, too. The combat training program she helped develop attracts serious students from around the world—carefully screened, of course.

“ We’re building it,” she corrects, turning to face me. “All of us together.”

She’s right. The sanctuary has evolved into something none of us could have imagined six months ago. The pharmaceutical companies still probe our defenses occasionally, but their efforts feel more routine than threatening now. They haven’t given up, but we’ve taught them we’re not easy prey.

Movement in the gardens catches my attention, where Franky works among the herb beds he’s cultivated with unexpected dedication. The transformation in him still amazes me—the way he nurtures growing things with the same intensity he once devoted to schemes and making money. Maya watches, too, her expression a complex mixture of hope and lingering wariness.

“Some transformations come slowly,” I murmur, remembering Father’s teachings about patience. “But that makes them no less real.”

“Laura told me that Dara finally convinced the authorities to consider his work here as community service,” Maya says, her voice lightening with relief. “The evidence on that flash drive helped bring down the pharmaceutical executives involved, so the FBI was willing to cut a deal. He’ll be on probation for years, but at least he won’t face prison time. It’s more than he deserves, really.”

She glances at me and, with a mischievous smile, pulls me toward our quarters. “Speaking of transformations… I have something to show you.”

Inside, she presents a carefully wrapped package—simple brown paper, but tied with a woven cord that I recognize from the tribal lands. I imagine it had come inside Sarah’s last letter. Maya’s fingers tremble slightly as she hands it to me.

“Open it,” she urges.

Inside lies a small gold pendant, its surface worked with symbols that bridge my several worlds—the Wolf of Rome alongside the tribal spirits’ sacred signs, all framing a wheel of fortune that mirrors the Tyche’s coin I’ve carried since my mother gave it to me.

“I had it made from gold recovered from the Fortuna,” she explains softly. “Joseph and Sarah helped me find an artisan who could blend the symbols properly. It’s to go beside your mother’s coin—not to replace it, but to mark this new chapter.”

I turn it over to find my father’s favorite philosophical maxim carefully etched in Greek letters.

Δ?ναμη μ?σα απ? το σκοτ?δι. Strength through darkness.

“That quote spoke to me so loudly, Damian. Your centuries of darkness under the sea, how strong you are, and now how happy you are, drenched in light—and love.”

My heart swells with affection for her. She understands even my deepest self.

“Maya…” Words fail me, so I pull her close instead, pouring my gratitude into a kiss that leaves us both breathless.

“I have something for you, too,” I tell her when we finally part. “Though I’d planned to wait for the perfect moment.”

“Every moment with you is perfect,” she teases, but I see the way her eyes brighten with curiosity.

I cross to the wooden chest where I keep my few precious possessions, retrieving a small box Thrax had made for me. It’s carefully carved with protective symbols. Inside nestles a ring forged from the same Roman gold my pendant is made of. It is set with a sparkling sapphire.

“The sapphire symbolizes wisdom, sincerity, and truth. Laura helped me mail it to Joseph, who blessed it and mailed it back,” I tell her, watching her eyes widen as she realizes what this means. “I believe it does a good job of bridging past and present, like us.”

Tears sparkle in her eyes as I slip it onto her ring finger. No elaborate proposal needed—we’ve already chosen each other in every way that matters.

“Past and present,” she agrees, her kiss tasting of love and certainty. “And whatever future comes.”

Below our window, the sanctuary is bustling with activity. The gardens Franky tends so carefully are soaking up the sun. Security teams change shifts while students practice their forms. My brother gladiators gather for their noon meal, their laughter carrying on the breeze.

Maya’s head rests against my chest and I feel her relax—something she does more often as each day passes.

“Perfect,” she murmurs, her voice dreamy. “What we’re building here is perfect.”

Yes, I think, holding her close. After two thousand years of frozen sleep, after all the battles and losses and uncertain paths, I’ve finally found where I belong.

With her.