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“But at this point I suppose I deserve to burn. I wonder if you’ll burn, too.”
“I have warned you, if something happens to you, I will personally raze the Eternal Flame. That isn’t a threat. It is a promise. Consider your survival as much a necessity to the Resistance as Holdfast’s. If you die, I will kill every single one of them.”
“Don’t die, Marino. I might miss you.”
She couldn’t fix herself anymore, and no one else seemed inclined to even notice she was breaking.
The coldness she associated with him had become a distant memory; his skin was warm, and his breath where it touched her cheek was warm. Drunk and feeling his heartbeat beneath her fingers, she couldn’t remember when she’d stopped being afraid of him.
“I must admit,” he said in a low voice as though making a confession, “if anyone had told me you’d become so lovely, I would never have come near you. I was rather blindsided when I saw you again.”
“You’re like a rose in a graveyard,” he said, and his lips twisted into a bitter smile. “I wonder what you could have turned into without the war.”
They were the inverse and counter to each other. A healer and killer, circling slowly, the push and pull inexorable.
“You’re mine. You swore yourself to me. Now and after the war. I’m going to take care of you. I’m not going to let anyone hurt you. You don’t have to be lonely. Because you’re mine.”
“Be careful, Kaine. Don’t die.”
“You’re mine. I’ll always come for you.” He always did.
