Page 83 of Wraith (Deviant Assassin #1)

Her words hit me like absolution and damnation rolled into one. Love. She loves me. Us. The woman I corrupted my career for, bled for, betrayed everything I once stood for—she’s choosing me. Choosing this.

“Jesus, Kiera.”

My voice comes out hoarse, raw with disbelief and desperate hope.

Twenty-three years I wore a badge, told myself I was serving justice, and then keeping my family happy.

But lying here between them, accepted for every dark desire I’ve harbored, every line I’ve crossed is the first time I’ve belonged anywhere.

The irony isn’t lost on me. I spent decades hunting killers, and now I’m in love with one.

I destroyed evidence, corrupted investigations, threw away everything I swore to uphold, and instead of feeling guilt, I feel.

.. complete. Like I was always meant to end up in this bed, between these two people who see my darkness and accept it.

I sit up facing them both. The moonlight catches the planes of their faces, highlighting the trust in their expressions. Trust I probably don’t deserve but will spend the rest of my life proving worthy of.

“You need to understand what you’re choosing,” I say, my voice steady despite the thundering of my heart.

“Agent Wilder died when I threw my badge on the floor and chose you over duty. What’s left.

..” Looking between them, making sure they see the truth in my eyes.

“What’s left is someone who will kill for you.

Who will corrupt investigations, destroy evidence, betray anyone and everyone to keep you safe. ”

The words should shame me. Twenty-three years of service, and I’d burn it all down for them. But there’s only the bone-deep knowledge that this—what we have—matters more than any oath I ever swore.

Blade’s eyes narrow, but not with disgust. With recognition. With respect. He understands what it means to choose love over everything else, to let that choice remake you from the inside out.

“I’ve already crossed lines I can never uncross,” I continue, needing them to understand the full scope of what I’m offering.

“There’s no going back to who I was. The man who arrested Kiera, who tried to use her to build a case, who believed family duty was more important than love—he’s dead.

If you choose me, you’re choosing someone who will put you above the law, above society, above everything I once swore to protect. ”

It feels so right, speaking it aloud. Like shedding skin that never fit properly anyway. Maybe I was never meant to be Agent Wilder. Maybe I was always meant to be this: Wild, unrestrained by rules that never made sense when applied to the only people who matter.

Kiera’s reaches out to trace thumb tracing my cheekbone through the stubble with reverent fingers. The same hands that deal death touch me like I’m worth saving.

“Good,” she says simply, and that single word unmakes me completely. “Because I don’t want Agent Wilder. I want Wild. I want the man who calls my work art, who understands my darkness, who throws his whole life away to protect what he loves.”

The relief that floods through me threatens to break me apart and rebuild me simultaneously. She sees what I’ve become, what I chose to become, and she wants it. Wants me.

“Then you have me,” I say, the words coming from somewhere deeper than conscious thought. “All of me. Every corrupt, obsessed, devoted piece.”

Turning to Blade, this next part is crucial. The elephant in the room we’ve been dancing around since the safe house.

“And I want you too.” The admission feels dangerous, revolutionary.

Twenty-three years of heteronormative assumptions crumbling in the face of something I can’t deny anymore.

“Not just because Kiera wants us both. Because somewhere in the middle of hating you, wanting to kill you, I started respecting you. Understanding you.”

Blade’s eyebrow arches, but his mouth quirks in something that might be amusement. The cocky bastard probably saw this coming before I did.

“You love her the way I do,” I continue, working through thoughts I’ve never dared voice. “Completely. Destructively. You’d burn the world down for her, and so would I. That makes us...” The right words form slowly, carefully. “Partners. Equals in this.”

“Partners,” Blade repeats, testing the word like wine on his tongue. Something shifts in his expression—surprise maybe, or recognition. “I can work with that.”

The simple acceptance shouldn’t mean as much as it does. But I’ve spent my entire adult life following rules, fitting into boxes, pretending to be something I wasn’t. To have someone look at me—really see me—and accept what they find... it’s everything.

“This won’t be easy,” I say, looking between them both, needing to be honest about the challenges ahead.

“We’re three damaged people trying to build something that works out of our collective fucked-up-ness.

We’re going to fight, disagree, drive each other crazy.

I’m possessive and jealous and I’ve never shared anything that mattered before. I don’t know how to do this.”

“Good,” Kiera says, her smile sharp and beautiful and utterly fearless. “Easy is boring.”

Laughter catches me off guard, coming from somewhere I thought had died long ago. “Then we’re perfect for each other.” Reaching for both of them, I pull them closer, marveling at how right this feels. How natural. “Because I choose this too. I choose both of you. I choose us.”

“Until one of us dies?” Blade asks, his voice holding that edge of vulnerability he hates to show.

“Until one of us dies,” I confirm without hesitation. “And maybe not even then.”

This feels right in a way my blood family never did.

I had a grandmother who raised me, but her first love was always Umber, always the organization.

I was useful, an asset to be developed, a pawn to be played, but never truly belonged.

But this, the three of us bound by choice and blood spilled side by side, this is what loyalty should feel like.