Page 71 of The Sniper

The kind that left scars.

Daniels sat at the edge of the war room, a half-empty bottle of whiskey on the table in front of him. His ribs ached, his knuckles were bruised, but none of that mattered. They’d come through the op alive. They knew who was responsible for the murders—or at least one of them—and Artemis had played her last card.

But Orion was still out there.

Fitz and Mitch had debriefed hours ago. Hartley had been moved to a secure location. Anton was still tracking the data Artemis had tried to leak, ensuring none of it had made it past their firewalls.

And Reyna…

Daniels let out a slow breath, glancing toward the far corner of the room.

She sat on the worn leather couch, her legs curled beneath her, wearing only the suit jacket he’d had on earlier. Her hair was damp from the shower, but her gaze was sharp, focused on nothing in particular.

She felt him watching. Her eyes flicked to his, dark and unreadable.

Then she exhaled, rubbing a hand over her face. “You should be resting.”

Daniels huffed a quiet laugh. “You should be listening to your own advice.”

Her lips curved slightly, but the exhaustion in her expression softened any humor.

He pushed to his feet, crossing the room. She watched him approach, but didn’t move, didn’t try to pretend she wasn’t just as wrecked as he was.

Daniels sat beside her, their knees brushing.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke.

The war was over. But the pieces still had to settle.

Finally, Reyna sighed. “We did it.”

Daniels reached out, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Yeah. We did.”

Her shoulders eased slightly, but he could still see the weight of everything in her eyes. The way she carried the losses like they were her own.

He slid his fingers beneath her chin, tilting her face toward him. “You did good, Reyna.”

She swallowed hard, searching his gaze. “I...” She hesitated, said. “I didn’t think I’d make it out of there.”

Daniels’s grip tightened, just a fraction. “I wasn’t going to let that happen.”

She let out a breathless laugh. “You don’t get to control everything, Daniels.”

He leaned in, his lips brushing against her temple, his voice low. “I do where you’re concerned.”

A small shudder ran through her, but she didn’t pull away. Instead, she turned, shifting until she was curled against him, her forehead pressing against his chest.

Daniels held her.

For the first time in too long, there were no orders—no imminent danger. Orion was still out there, but for now he could wait.

Just them.

The silence stretched, but this time, it wasn’t the kind that suffocated. It was the kind that settled deep into their bones.

She sighed against him, her body relaxing fully for the first time in days. And Daniels knew, without a doubt, that whatever came next—whatever storms were still waiting for them—he wasn’t letting her go.

She was his partner, and he was sure she’d never join the Bureau. She was his. And John Daniels didn’t lose what was his. He’d have to talk to Fitz about that collar…

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