Page 119 of The Beast's Broken Angel

“You want me to leave?” The words came out rougher than intended.

“I want you safe,” he corrected, finally meeting my eyes. “Both of you. Even if that means...”

“Even if that means losing me.”

“Yes.” Simple. Honest. Devastating.

I crossed to him, took the untouched whiskey from his hand and set it aside. “You beautiful, self-sacrificing idiot.”

“Noah—”

“Shut up.” I straddled his lap in the chair,framing his face with my hands. “I'm not leaving. Not in three months, not in a year, not ever. You're stuck with me.”

“The contract?—”

“Fuck the contract,” I said vehemently. “This stopped being about the contract weeks ago and you know it.”

His hands settled on my hips, holding me like I might vanish. “I can't guarantee your safety. Isabelle's safety. Harrison's people will keep coming.”

“Then we'll face them together,” I said simply. “All of us. Because that's what you do when you love someone. You stay and fight.”

“Love,” he repeated, wonder in his voice like he'd never expected to hear it applied to him.

“Yes, you impossible man. Love.” I kissed him, pouring everything I couldn't articulate into the contact. When we broke apart, both breathless, I added, “The contract can expire. I'm not going anywhere.”

His arms tightened around me. “Promise?”

“Promise.” I sealed it with another kiss, deeper this time. “Though I do want to discuss modified terms. Part-time hospital work. Keeping my medical skills sharp.”

“Whatever you want,” he agreed immediately. “Anything.”

“Careful. I might ask for a lot.”

“Ask for everything,” he said seriously. “It's yours.”

The raw sincerity undid me. This man who'd been programmed for violence, who'd built walls of ice around his heart, was offering me everything with terrifying vulnerability.

“I just want you,” I told him. “The rest we'll figure out as we go.”

“Together,” he said, like a vow.

“Together,”I agreed.

A week later,Ravenswood had adapted to our strange new dynamic. Isabelle had claimed the conservatory completely, her art exploding in new directions with space and safety to explore. I split my time between Adrian's medical needs, checking on the recovering soldiers, and establishing protocols for field medicine that our lifestyle apparently required.

“Family dinner,” Sophia announced, sweeping into the informal dining room where I was reviewing medical journals. “Non-negotiable. Isabelle's already there.”

I found myself seated at an actual dinner table with Adrian's grandmother, my sister, and the man himself, like some surreal version of normal family life. If normal families included armed security and discussions of territorial disputes over the soup course.

“Your brother's been quite thorough in his questions about contract structures,” Sophia told Isabelle conversationally. “Wants to understand every clause before he'll even discuss terms.”

“Runs in the family,” Isabelle replied, shooting me a knowing look.

“What contract structures?” I asked, confused.

Adrian shifted slightly. “New arrangement. Post-contract. Sophia's been helping draft something that protects everyone's interests.”

“You've been planning this without me?”