Page 92 of The Knight

A polite cough interrupted.

Fox.

“Not wanting to intrude, but there are a lot of bad guys running around. We should make a move, locate Zak.”

Abe broke the kiss, and Freya turned to smile at Fox. The slight tilt of his head told her he was listening for movement in the corridors beyond, even as he gave them this moment. His blue eyes held a glimmer of amusement. “Unless you want to test if romance really stops bullets?”

“Sounds like a plan.” Abe pressed a kiss to her forehead. “What say we get out of this joint, Duchess?”

51

One month later.

Abe placed a kiss on Freya’s forehead as she stirred. She burrowed closer, her body warm against his skin. Her touch still sent sparks through him, even after all they’d shared.

They had checked into the Sorrisniva Igloo Hotel two nights ago. One of the northernmost ice hotels in the world and rebuilt every winter with a new design. He and Freya had been some of the first new season guests. He’d watched her eyes light up when they’d arrived, her wonder at the crystalline architecture making his heart swell.

The distance from home had given them both space to center themselves and while he mourned the loss of Freya’s archive for her sake, there was no denying the weight that had lifted from their shoulders when she had deleted the archive and all the fuckery it contained.

His muscles tensed at the fresh memories. Korolov had vanished. No one had seen him since the helicopter had taken off. A flight plan had been lodged but never completed, as if the help had disappeared into thin air. But men like Korolov didn’tjust disappear. They went to ground, regrouped, and came back fighting.

He pulled Freya closer. When Korolov surfaced again, he’d be ready. They all would.

Wrapped in plump thermal comforters and reindeer hides, surrounded by soft, down-filled pillows in their king-sized bed, he held Freya close, savoring each breath, each moment of peace.

He’d booked the holiday as a gift for her, a chance for her to heal away from the turmoil of the recent events. But it was also his gift to himself—uninterrupted time with the woman who had transformed his world. Every moment they shared here felt like reclaiming something precious that Korolov had almost stolen from them.

Mine.

The bedside lamp cast everything in gentle blue, turning her skin to moonlight. His fingertips drifting over the slope of her shoulder, learning every detail. Her skin pebbled under his touch and she sighed happily.

Time seemed to slow in moments like these. He wanted to memorize everything—the weight of her head on his chest, the way her fingers curled against his ribs, the soft whisper of sheets as she shifted closer. Six weeks ago, he’d almost lost this. Lost her. The thought sent a shiver down his spine. He tightened his arms around her.

“You’re thinking too loud,” she murmured, her voice thick with sleep.

“I am?”

“Uh-huh.” She opened her eyes and his pulse skipped.

Her palm slid to his jaw. “Morning, handsome.”

“Morning, Duchess.” He kissed the tip of her nose.

He buried his nose in her hair and breathed her in, her scent loosening all the knots inside him. Freya was all he needed.

For years he’d kept his heart locked away, telling himself it was safer that way. Smarter. But all that protection had left him empty. And it hadn’t brought back the men he’d lost.

With Freya, he understood what he’d been missing. The simple pleasures of sharing morning coffee, the comfort of going home to someone you loved after a long day.

He kissed the soft skin just below her ear and she moaned her pleasure.

Meeting Freya had taught him to live his life to the fullest and, in doing so, honor those he’d lost.

She ran her fingers over the newest scar, then along the line where theArcher’smedic had stitched him back together. “How is it this morning?”

“All the better for waking up next to you.”

The healing wounds meant desk duty for now, but with Freya pressed against him, he couldn’t care less. Her fingers twined with his, her smile stealing his breath.

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