Page 153 of In Shadows We Dance

“You sound … different.”

“I am.” My thumb brushes over the bruise on Ileana’s throat. “Shemakes me different.”

“Then we’ll wait.” He clears his throat, his voice taking on a more subdued tone. “The east wing is more private. I’ll have itprepared for you. You can move in there whenever you wish.”

The offer catches me off guard.

“The east wing?” That part of the house has been closed off for years … since my grandmother died.

“You chose her.Shewould want you to have that space.” Simple words, but they mean everything. “That makes her family. And we protect our family.”

The call ends abruptly, an olive branch extended, then quickly withdrawn before emotions could take root. Typical Charles Carlisle. But the gesture speaks volumes. The east wing, with its privacy, security … and memories … says everything he won’t.

I stare at the phone for a long moment before setting it aside.

Ileana’s body curls against mine when I lay back down, her breathing soft and steady. She stirs slightly, her eyes fluttering open as she blinks up at me.

“Everything okay?”

“Everything’s perfect.” I claim her lips, my hand curling around the back of her neck. “We can go back to Silverlake Rapids.”

She stiffens slightly, her body tensing against mine. “The agents …”

“Gone. My father can be persuasive.”

Her brow furrows. “Why would he do that?”

“Because of you. You made me reach out. Made me want more than empty rooms and meaningless power plays.”

Her lips part, but no words come.

“Wren …” Her voice is soft, hesitant, but I cut her off with another kiss, harder this time, pouring everything I feel into the movement of my lips against hers.

“No more running,” I whisper against her mouth, my fingers curling possessively around her throat. “No more hiding. You’re mine, and I always protect what’s mine.”

Her arms wind around my neck, holding me tightly. “Then take me home.”

I tighten my grip on her, letting the words settle between us.For a moment, neither of us moves. Leaving means stepping into something new, something real. It means trusting that the agents are truly gone, that my father’s influence was enough.

Her fingers curl at the back of my neck, anchoring me, her warmth sinking into my chest. “Wren?”

“Now?”

She nods, and I help her to her feet, steadying her when her legs falter.

I gather our things while she watches me, quiet but intent. Her trust in me feels absolute, and it’s as humbling as it is exhilarating. I take her hand, threading my fingers through hers, and lead her toward the door.

The drive back is different. No evasions. No shadows. Just us, the road stretching ahead like a promise.

When we pull up to the house, it looks the same as always, but everything has changed.

Because of her. Because of us.

All because a girl once threw juice at me and refused to disappear.

CHAPTER 79

Loose Threads

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