“I love you, Raelyn,” I whisper into her hair, my voice thick with a raw emotion I’ve spent a lifetime hiding. “I meant what I said. You’re my peace. In all the blood and the chaos of my world, you’re the only thing that makes sense. You’re everything I never knew I was allowed to have.”
I shift slightly, pressing a soft, lingering kiss to the back of her neck, right where my mark would be if I could brand her soul. She turns in my arms, her face flushed and her eyes sleepy, but a small, genuine smile tugs at the corners of her lips. It’s the kind of smile that makes my chest ache—a look of absolute safety and love directed entirely at a man who has done nothing but take.
I trace the curve of her cheek with my thumb, my expression turning solemn and fierce.
“I will give my life to keep that smile on your face,” I vow, the words a blood oath whispered in the dark. “I will burn every bridge and slaughter every enemy before I let anyone take that look away from you. You’re mine,moya dusha. Now and for whatever comes after.”
“I love you so much, too,” she sighs, leaning her forehead against my collarbone, her hand resting over my heart.
I hold her like she’s the most precious thing in existence, watching her until her breathing evens out and she drifts into a deep, protected sleep.
I’ve spent my life as a monster, but in the ruins of our wedding night, I finally feel like a man who has come home.
Chapter 25 – Raelyn
I pace the length of the balcony, barefoot against cold stone, fingers digging into the railing like it might steady me.
There’s a time bomb ticking in the bathroom.
I breathe in the night air and try not to count seconds, but my mind refuses to stay still. It drifts—backward and forward all at once.
The world feels different now. Not safe. Not perfect. But mine.
Konstantin and I are rebuilding what my father died for. We’re cleansing networks, burning rot out of places that once swallowed truth whole. Every name uncovered feels like reclaiming a piece of him. Every corrected lie feels like justice whispered instead of screamed.
I’m back in school too. Focused. Ruthless about my grades. I want excellence now—not because I have something to prove, but because I finally understand what truth costs.
Konstantin tutors me at night, leaning over my shoulder, murmuring explanations that turn into teasing when my eyes droop. He laughs when I fall asleep on my notes, then scoops me up like I weigh nothing and carries me to bed. Our love is wild and tender and messy—equal parts fire and shelter. It anchors me in ways I didn’t know I needed.
And then there’s this.
The nausea started quietly. Easy to ignore. I blamed stress. Late nights. Too much coffee. But it kept coming—sharpest in the mornings, relentless, intimate. My body insisting on being heard.
So I bought a pregnancy test.
And now it’s sitting in the bathroom, deciding my life while I pace here.
The timer beeps.
The sound slices clean through my chest.
I freeze.
For a moment, I don’t move at all. I press my palm flat to my stomach, breath shallow, heart hammering like it’s already chosen a side.
Then I turn.
Each step back inside feels heavier than the last. The hallway stretches. The bathroom light glows too bright, too unforgiving.
I kneel in front of the counter.
Pick it up.
My eyes lock onto the window.
Two lines.
Clear. Unmistakable.