Page 161 of The Colour of Revenge

“What is this?” she asks, turning to me.

“Happy birthday, Princess,” I say, stepping toward her.

Her brow furrows. “My birthday was months ago.”

“I know.” I shrug. “But I wasn’t there. So, we’re making a new one. You can be like the Queen. She had two.”

Her lips twitch, and then a laugh bursts free—a real one. The sound is like a balm to the ache that’s been gnawing at me for weeks. Her smile lights up her face, making her look more like the woman I fell for, the woman I know is still fighting to claw her way back to the surface.

“I can’t believe you did this,” she mutters, stepping closer until she’s standing right in front of me.

I take her hand and guide her to the floor, where we settle onto the soft blankets. “I’d do literally anything for you,” I admit, trying to sound romantic but probably coming off like I’d rob a bank for her. (Which, to be fair, I would.)

Her eyes flick up to meet mine, a mix of emotions swirling in their depths. “I know,” she whispers. Her fingers curl around mine, but there’s something hesitant in her touch. Her gaze drops, her other hand fidgeting with the edge of a blanket.

I tip her chin up gently. “Hey.” My thumb brushes her jaw. “You’re not broken, Carina.”

Her breath catches. For a second, I see it—a flicker of belief. But then doubt slams into her like a tidal wave.

“You are the most incredible woman I’ve ever met. I know you’re struggling, and God knows you have every reason to. But I’m here. I won’t let you fall.” I repeat my earlier words, praying she believes them. “You arenotbroken, Carina.”

Her breath hitches, and I see the flicker of doubt in her eyes.

“I know you feel lost,” I continue. “Now that your vengeance is done, it’s like you don’t know who you are anymore. But that fire? That strength? It’s still there. And it doesn’t have to end here.”

She swallows hard, her eyes searching mine as if looking for something solid to hold onto.

“I already have a spot open for you at Haven,” I tell her. “You can help other women who’ve been through what you did. You can give them the hope and strength they need to fight their way back.”

Her lips part, but no words come out. She blinks rapidly like she’s fighting something—memories, ghosts, maybe the fear that she doesn’t know who she is without the rage.

“And if that’s all you want to do, that’s fine,” I say softly. “But if you ever want more—if you ever want to stand by my side in my version of justice—you can.”

Her hands tremble slightly as she reaches for mine, her fingers lacing through mine.

“Nate…” Her voice cracks. She shakes her head, trying to find the right words but can’t.

I lean forward, pressing a kiss to her forehead. “You don’t have to decide now. Just know that I believe in you. I always will.”

For the first time in what feels like forever, her shoulders relax—not completely, but enough. The weight she’s been carrying for months, maybe years, doesn’t vanish, but tonight, she lets me hold some of it.

“Thank you,” she whispers, her voice barely audible but filled with so much emotion that it makes my chest ache.

The world outside disappears, and for tonight, it’s just us. Me, the awkward romantic, and her, the woman who deserves every happiness.

44

I’m Still Alive

Hypothetical Question: If you could live forever, but it meant you had to consume the lives of others to stay young, how would you choose your victims?

Carina

Nate’swordslingerlongafter my ‘birthday’ celebration.

I’ve spent so long chasing revenge that I never stopped to think about what would come after. Now that it’s done, an empty void stretches before me, swallowing up all the rage and purpose that once kept me moving. The silence is deafening.

But maybe Nate is right—maybe I can help other women like me.