Page 115 of Serpent King's Revenge

The end of a reign of terror that had lasted too long.

"Damn." The word slipped out, more to myself than anyone else. Abby stirred next to me, but I kept my eyes on the phone, letting the reality sink in. The fight, the bloodshed, the constant looking over our shoulders—it was all finished.

"Hey," she murmured, voice rough with sleep.

I put the phone aside. She was more important.

"Hey yourself," I said. I lay back down and turned to her, my fingers brushing away strands of dark hair from her face. Her eyes locked onto mine, brow creasing in a frown.

"Is it over?" she asked, voice barely above a whisper.

"Yep," I replied, the word feeling foreign but true.

She let out a harsh exhale, like she'd been underwater for too long. "It feels like I can breathe for the first time. You?"

"Exactly like that."

Her eyes held mine a moment longer, searching for any hint of the lie. But there was none. We were free.

"Okay…” she trailed off. “So what now?"

I shrugged. "We love each other. Rebuild as Vipers…try not to traumatize our kid."

She snorted at that, a sound so normal it felt out of place after last night. Then she chuckled, a low, throaty laugh that nudged at my own tension.

And just like when we’d accidentally killed her partner, we started laughing.

It was the kind of laugh that didn't know if it wanted to be a sob or a cheer, but it didn't matter. We laughed because it was over, because we could, because it beat crying any day of the week. We clung to each other, our laughter booming through the apartment like it was trying to shake the walls down. Abby's body shook against mine, her face buried in my chest as I tried to catch my breath. It was that deep, guttural laugh, the kind you can't fake or force.

It felt good, like we were coughing up all the shadows that had lived inside us for too long.

But then, the laughter faded, and a heavy sigh pushed its way out of my lungs. We were teetering on the edge, the kind of moment that could flip to tears just as quick as it had to joy.

I leaned back just enough to see her face, bringing my forehead down to touch hers. "Abby," I said, my voice rough from the laughing, "you're the most beautiful—and the most terrifying—woman I've ever met."

Her eyes locked onto mine, fierce and alive. She didn't look away or blush. That wasn't her style.

"Good," she replied, her words strong and certain. "Wouldn't want to be anything less for you."

"Wouldn't have it any other way," I told her, and meant every damn word.

We were still catching our breaths, the laughter lingering in the air when Abby's eyes found mine, her voice quiet but carrying weight. "How are you holding up with all of this?"

I gave a short laugh, a bitter sound that didn't fit the moment. "Uh…I don't know. You murdered my father last night."

"Come on, Nathan," she pushed, rolling her eyes. "Be serious for a second."

I felt something shift inside me, and it wasn't the kind of thing I could easily shove aside. "Yeah," I said, my voice dropping to a near whisper as I looked away from those searching eyes of hers. "It's just…a lot, you know?"

She watched me, listening. She didn’t offer her opinion—not now. I reached for her hand, felt the warmth of her fingers entwining with mine.

"My old man," I started, not sure where to go from there. But then the words just came. "He tried to make me into something I wasn't. Something I never wanted to be."

Abby squeezed my hand, saying nothing, waiting for me to find the end of that thread.

"Today, right now, I'm free. Free to be who I want. Maybe I won't ever be the best guy out there, but at least I won't be cruel." It was a promise, to her, to myself…to our baby.

She nodded, that fierce look in her eyes softening for a moment. "Are you mad at me for pulling the trigger?"

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