Page 95 of Inked Athena

“I want to give you everything, Nova,” he murmurs roughly. “Everything good in this world.”

“You already have.” I burrow closer. “You’ve given me peace. Hope. Family.”

He laughs, the sound reverberating through me. “I’ve given you headaches and heartburn and a lifetime of watching your back.”

“Worth it.” I kiss his heart. “Every second.”

He studies my face. “Are you sure? About all of this?”

I nod, emotion stealing my voice.I’ve never been more sure of anything.

His smile—his real smile, not the calculated one he shows the world—transforms him into something softer. More vulnerable.

Moremine.

“Then let’s get married.” He clutches me harder. “Let’s build a life together. A real one. Nothing like what our parents had. I want that. I want you.”

He pulls me close, his arms wrapping around me like a shield. I close my eyes, breathing in his scent. It used to smell like smoke, like cedar, like sandalwood. Now, it smells like things only I can sense.

Safety. Protection. Love.

For the first time in my life, I feel like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.

33

NOVA

I rotate my hand, watching my engagement ring catch the light from the tower window. The stone is massive, throwing rainbow fractals across my face and the weathered wood beneath my fingers.

A week ago, I would’ve felt like an imposter in front of this ornate mirror with its gilt frame and centuries of tarnish.

Now, it feels right. Like I belong here.

Funny how much can change in a few nights.

The morning after Samuil’s proposal, I woke up to find a team of tailors and stylists in the castle’s great hall. Apparently, my new fiancé doesn’t believe in wasting time—the engagement party is tonight. Half of London’s elite and most of Chicago’s Bratva will be here in a few hours to “celebrate our union.”

More like size me up.

“There now, lass.” Mrs. Morris’s expert fingers weave tiny braids at my temples, pulling them back to cascade with the rest of mydark waves. Her eyes meet mine in the mirror. “You look like you were born to this.”

“Born to what? Play dress-up in a castle?”

“To stand tall.” Her gnarled hands settle on my shoulders. “This castle’s seen its share of nobility, but it knows the difference between real grace and fancy plumage.”

I touch my growing belly, barely visible in the deep green silk of my dress. “I just want to make him proud.”

“Oh, love.” She squeezes gently. “That’s been done since the moment he first saw you.”

A knock at the door makes us both jump.

We turn in unison to see my fiancé.Fiancé—God, that will take some time to adapt to. Three days of saying it in my head again and again and it still feels like an alien word.

Samuil fills the doorway, his massive frame making both the ancient wood and my heart creak. His eyes lock onto me, and I watch his pupils dilate.

Good to know I clean up okay.

“Mrs. Morris.” His voice is quiet thunder. “Could you give us a moment, please?”

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