“You gave me your heart, Marya Antonova, and I will keep it safe until my dying day,” Dimitri promised, and took her free hand gently, placing it against his chest. If he only ever made her one vow, it would be this one. “I’ll keep it safe,” he swore, his pulse and hers in synchronicity, in truth beneath her palm, “and in return, you’ll have my heart, forever, until someone cuts it out of my fucking chest.”
