Page 36 of Blade's Princess

The brothers who witnessed the confrontation approach cautiously, respect evident in their eyes as they look at Sophie. Hawk gives her a small nod, while Saint, for once in his life, remains respectfully silent.

"That woman's a fucking psychopath," Ghost observes, watching the cloud of dust settling after Margaret's departure.

Chapter 14

Blade

Sophie and I sit together on the small balcony outside my room as she excitedly recounts every detail of her first day at the clinic—from cleaning kennels to helping hold a puppy for vaccinations. The evening air carries a hint of autumn chill, but Sophie seems content wrapped in one of my hoodies, her legs draped across my lap as we share a beer.

"Did you mean what you told her?" she asks after a comfortable silence. "About the FBI?"

I nod, absently tracing patterns on her denim-clad knee. "Cipher's compiled everything. It's ready to go."

Sophie contemplates this, her expression thoughtful in the fading light. "What happens to the money? The inheritance she stole?"

"With the right lawyers, we can recover a good portion of it. The investments, the trust fund, maybe even the house." I watch her carefully, trying to gauge her reaction. "It's yours, Sophie. All of it. You'll be financially independent. You can do whatever you want."

The implications of this sink in slowly, her eyes widening. "I could... go anywhere? Do anything?"

Something cold and sharp twists in my gut at her words. The thought of her leaving—taking her newfound freedom and wealth somewhere far from Wraithport, far away from me—is physically painful. But I force myself to nod.

“Go anywhere. Do anything." My voice comes out rougher than intended. "You could finish your vet tech program at any school in the country. Buy your own place. Start fresh."Without mehangs unspoken between us.

She studies me, those sea-green eyes eerily perceptive. "Is that what you want? For me to leave?” When her bottom lip trembles, I realize I may not have expressed my own desires clear enough.

"Fuck no," I admit, unable to lie about this, not to her. "I want you here at the club. With me. Always."

I reach for the small leather bundle beside me. I wasn’t sure if tonight was the right time for it or not, but I kept it close just in case. “But I need you to choose to stay. Not because you're trapped or out of fear or gratitude, but because it's what you want."

“Really?” Tears pool in her eyes. “Do you really want me to stay with you?”

I unwrap the bundle, revealing what's inside—a custom-made leather cut, smaller and fitted to her frame, with the Shadow Reapers emblem on the back and, beneath it, the words “Princess” and “Property of Blade" in elegant script.

"In the club, this means something," I explain, watching her expression carefully. “If you accept, it means you're my ol’ lady. My woman. It means you're mine, and I'm yours." I swallow hard, vulnerability not coming easily to me. “Like marriage…only more.”

Her fingers trace the lettering, her touch almost reverent. "Property," she repeats softly.

"Not the wayshemeant it," I assure her quickly. "Not ownership. Belonging—to each other." I struggle to find the right words, more used to giving orders than explaining feelings. "It's about having a place. Having someone who puts you first. Always."

She looks up, eyes shining with emotion I can't quite read. "And if I want to wear this, but also want to finish school? Have a career? Have some independence?"

"Then that's what happens. I'd never cage you, Sophie. Never try to clip your wings." I cup her face in my hand, thumb brushing her cheekbone. "I just want to be your home base. The place you come back to."

She leans forward, pressing her forehead to mine. “Good. It’s what I want too."

The soft admission unravels something in my chest. I pull her closer, shifting her fully onto my lap, needing her warmth against me, needing the reassurance that she's choosing me despite now having options.

"So you'll wear it?" I ask, unable to keep the hopeful edge from my voice.

“Hell yeah.” Her smile is radiant in the gathering dusk. "Help me put it on."

I stand, bringing her with me, and hold the cut open for her to slip her arms through.

She turns slowly, looking over her shoulder to try to see the back. "How does it look?"

"Like you belong to me," I growl, pulling her against me, need surging hot and fierce through my veins. "Like you're mine."

"Yours," she agrees, rising on tiptoes to brush her lips against mine. "And you're mine."

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