Page 172 of Deacon

My shoulders drop and my head falls back. Everything tingles, but maybe that’s from the blood seeping down my leg or the ringing in my ears.

I don’t remember leaving Keira, but she must have told me where to go, because my feet are moving. I’m floating up the stairs and down the hall. Every step seems to take forever. Then, I find the bedroom with an ajar door, and I push it all the way open.

Sleeping curled up with one of Sovereign’s dogs is Freya.

I swear, I almost fall to my knees. Part of me was so scared, despite my rage at Aiden and my mission to wipe them all out, thatJack wouldn’t pull through and get her out safe. But here she is, without a scratch on her.

That favor was worth every penny I spent on Exile.

Freya is sound asleep. The small dog lifts its head but lays back down. I limp across the room and push the curtain open. The sky is pale blue, the stars winking out between gathering clouds. It’s starting to snow, little flakes that swirl and fall lightly before hitting the frozen ground.

My eyes move up to the crest of the hill. I see it, a trail through the frost, leading in the direction of the mountains.

Jack Russell has come and gone. I’ll see him again when he decides to call on me, but for now, his work here is done.

I sink down into the armchair. My leg is halfway numb, the pain a dull throb that won’t quit. But in my chest, I’m whole. There’s no hoping, no longing anymore. Now, I realize as I sit, miles from the house I built, that home was never a place. It was always this woman.

It was the baby she’ll have when summer comes.

It’s all the years I get to love her and have her love me back.

A dog barks outside. Freya stirs, rolling onto her back. Her lids open, and her eyes move over the room and fall on me.

She sits bolt upright, and I’m by her side in a second.

“Hey, you’re okay. Sit back.” I take her shoulders.

Her face crumples, and she throws her arms around my neck, clinging to me as sobs wrack her body. I pull her into my lap, brushing my hand over her head, holding it against my shoulder. My hands move absently over her body, checking for injuries, but she’s whole.

“I’m having a baby,” she sobs.

I kiss her temple. “I know, sweetheart. It’s alright. I’ll take care of you both.”

She cries herself out. I just hold her, knowing how stressed she is after everything she’s been through. Finally, she lifts her swollen face.

“Please,” she whispers. “Promise me something.”

“Anything.” I cradle her chin in my fingers.

“Don’t leave me,” she begs.

“There’s no leaving,” I say. “Love me. Marry me.”

Her mouth shakes. She bites her lip and lets it go.

“I do love you,” she whispers. “And I’ll marry you, but only if you promise to never hate me or hurt me.”

She knows I wouldn’t, but I understand why she says it.

“I know he hurt you,” I say, my voice hushed, “but I’m not him. Been waiting all my life for you, sweetheart. I promise.”

Something about those words get right to her heart. The tension in her body eases, and she sags against me.

“I trust you,” she breathes.

I stroke her hair. “I’ve been lonely for a long time. But not anymore, not since the night you slept with me. I’ve been tired for years, but you make me feel like I’m ready to start at the beginning. I want to do this with you. I want you as my wife. Let’s go home, have some babies, just live for a while.”

She hiccups.

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