Page 141 of In Shadows We Dance

I move closer, eyes tracking over her face as I approach. Her lashes rest against pale cheeks, her lips slightly parted. She looks fragile, breakable, but I know better. Fragile things don’t fight the way she has. They don’t survive.

My phone buzzes again, but I don’t look at it. Nothing else matters now. I found her. She’s mine.

The need to touch her is overwhelming, and my fingers hover just above her cheek. But I don’t cross that final inch. If I let myself go now, I might not be able to control myself. The chaos inside me grows louder, begging for release.

“Time to wake up, Ballerina.” My voice is rough, loud.

Her eyes snap open, wide and unfocused, panic flaring like wildfire. Her body jerks as she scrabbles to straighten, her breath coming in sharp gasps. For a second, she doesn’t see me, doesn’t know it’s me, and the fear in her eyes cuts through me like a blade.

Before she can scream, my hand covers her mouth.

“Shhh.” My other hand cups her jaw, tilting her face toward mine. “It’s me.”

Her body stills, eyes locking onto mine, turning glassy with tears. A broken sound escapes her lips, somewhere between a sob and a gasp, and then she’s moving, launching herself at me with such force it nearly sends us both crashing to the floor.

Her arms lock around my neck, body pressing against mine until there’s no gap between us. She’s trembling violently, her sobs filling the small chapel. I tighten my arm around her, one hand lifting to fist in her hair. “I’ve got you, Ballerina.”

Her legs give out, and I catch her, holding her against me. She buries her face into my chest, her tears soaking into my shirt, but I don’t care. Letting go isn’t an option. Not now. Not ever again.

When she finally lifts her head, her eyes are wild, almost feverish. Her cheeks are streaked with tears, her lips parted as though she can’t catch her breath. Something primal passes between us, electric and undeniable. My hand tightens in her hair. I don’t know if I’m anchoring her to me, or proving to myself that she’s real.

“Let’s get out of here.”

She nods, still shaking, still clinging to me like I’m the only thing that’s keeping her grounded. I guide her along the aisle, down to the exit, her body pressed against mine the entire time, her fingers twisting in the front of my shirt.

“Agent Miller …”

“They’re chasing ghosts. They’ll never touch you again.” I can’t stop the bite in my tone, but it’s not her I’m angry with, it’s them.

Another shudder rocks through her, fingers tightening their grip on my shirt. My arm around her waist keeps her close, andthe darkness inside me purrs, satisfied by her response, by the way she yields to me.

When we reach the car, I help her into the passenger seat. Panic flashes across her face when I let go, her hand darting out to grab my wrist.

I crouch beside her. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Her fingers cling to me, and I lift a hand to rest my palm against her throat and hold her gaze until the panic fades. When her breathing evens out, I round the car and climb into the driver’s seat. My hand immediately finds her thigh, squeezing hard enough to bruise. “I’m never letting you go again.”

She slumps back, her body sinking into the seat as the last of her strength drains away. Her fingers thread through mine where they rest on her leg, her grip fierce.

“Where are we going?” Her voice is tired, small.

“Somewhere safe.” The engine roars to life. I look over at her, my hand flexing against her thigh.

She’s mine now, in every way that matters. Always has been. Always will be.

And no one will ever take her from me again.

CHAPTER 73

Sanctuary

ILEANA

Wren’s carcuts through the darkness, headlights illuminating the empty road. My head rests against the window, the faint vibration from the engine almost hypnotic, lulling me into a weird limbo between waking and sleeping. It isn’t just the last three days of running. It’s the release of everything I’ve been holding onto, the constant awareness, the vigilance, the need to survive. Now that I’m not alone, now that I don’t have to be everything all at once, it feels like my body is collapsing under its own relief.

“When did you last eat?” Wren's voice reaches through the fog in my head.

The question hangs in the air, taking a second to sink into my mind. I turn my head to look at him. He’s focused on the road, his hands steady on the wheel. I force my mouth to work.

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