Elena's breath shudders out of her, and I feel the tension in her body ease.
She leans into my hand, her eyes closing for a moment, and I let my thumb trace the curve of her jaw, remembering how much I loved the feel of her skin beneath my touch.
When she opens her eyes again, they're still wet with tears, but there's something else there now.
She lifts her head. "Promise me," she says.
"I promise."
"Say it again."
"You're with me," I repeat, leaning closer. "Now and forever. No matter what."
A single tear slips down her cheek, and I catch it with my thumb, wiping it away.
"I'm not letting you go, Leni," I say. "Not ever again."
She nods, and then she does something I don't expect.
She reaches up, her small hand wrapping around my wrist, holding me there.
"Okay," she whispers, and then leans forward.
22
ELENA
Istare at Adrian's lips.
His thumb is still brushing along my jaw, and his dark eyes hold mine with an intensity that makes my chest ache like it used to. The warmth of his palm against my skin pulls me back from the edge of panic that's been my constant companion for eighteen months.
But I need more proof.
My mind knows he's real now. I watched him break down that door. I felt his arms around me when I collapsed. I heard his voice promise me safety over and over again as I vomited up the poison.
But some part of me, the part that's been drugged and manipulated and told a thousand lies, that part still whispers, what if?
What if this is just another hallucination? A dream? What if I blink and he disappears, and I'm still in that basement in Moscow, and this is just my mind's desperate attempt to escape?
I lean forward. "I need to feel you," I say, my gaze locked on his mouth. "I need to know you're real."
He licks his lips, and I glance up to see the hunger and restraint all tangled together in his eyes.
I close the remaining distance between us and press my mouth to his.
The moment our lips touch, the world shifts, or maybe it returns.
Heat floods through me, sharp and aggressive. His mouth is warm, softer than I remember, and the sensation is so vivid, so real, that tears prick at my eyes.
This isn't a hallucination, and I'm crazy to think it could have been.
This is Adrian. My one true love and protector.
Now I just need my trauma-filled brain to finally catch up and process it.
His hand tightens on my jaw, his fingers sliding into my hair. His other hand comes up to cup the back of my neck, holding me steady, holding me close to him.
The scrape of his stubble against my chin sends warm chills through my body. It's rough, masculine, so distinctly him that my heart feels like it'll burst with recognition.