Page 103 of Lost in Fire

Vanya climbs carefully onto the narrow bed beside me, mindful of my injuries. I wrap my good arm around her shoulders, and she settles against my side like she belongs there. Her hair smells clean and warm against my face—normal, human things that seem miraculous after everything we’ve been through.

“I dreamed about this,” she whispers against my chest. “The three of us, together. Free. But I never thought it would actually happen.”

“It’s happening now.”

We lie together in the peaceful darkness. Outside, night birds call to each other. The monitors beep softly, a mechanical lullaby.

Every breath I take feels like a gift.

We’re damaged. Scarred by choices and circumstances that would have broken lesser people. The road ahead won’t be easy—there will still be enemies, still be challenges. But we’re here. Alive and whole and together.

For the first time in longer than I can remember, that feels not just like enough, but like everything.

The healing has truly begun.

Chapter 34

Hargen

The mountains look peaceful from here. Purple shadows stretch across the valley as the sun bleeds out behind jagged peaks. I stand at the window, rolling my shoulder where the last of Vanya’s healing magic sealed skin over ribs that should have been powder. The burn scars have faded to silver lines across my chest and arms.

Everything’s changed. Viktor’s people treat me like an actual ally now instead of a convenient asset. Ember’s been working with their trainers, learning to control powers that shouldn’t exist. And Vanya…

She hasn’t left my side for more than a few hours since we got here. Not that I’m complaining. We have a lot of time to make up for.

The door opens behind me. I don’t turn—I know her footsteps, the particular way she moves through space like she’s claiming territory just by existing.

“How did the meeting go?” I ask as her arms slide around my waist from behind.

“Viktor’s satisfied with our intelligence reports. The Shadowhand’s network is proving useful.” Her forehead rests between my shoulder blades. I sense her inhaling my scent. “He’s offering us permanent sanctuary right here at the outpost, if we want it.”

“Do we?”

“That depends on you.”

I turn in her arms. The stress lines around her eyes are softer now, but she still carries tension in her shoulders like armor she can’t take off. Three weeks of safety haven’t been enough to undo all the time she spent playing the enemy.

“You look stronger today,” she says, fingers tracing the silvered burn marks along my forearm. Her touch sends electricity under my skin—has since the day we met; apparently, some things don’t change.

“I feel stronger.” The truth of it surprises me. Not just physically, though the pain’s mostly gone. Something deeper. Like the parts of myself I’d compartmentalized for decades are finally allowed to exist in the same space.

Her fingers pause over a particularly ugly scar near my throat. “I’m sorry. If I’d—”

“Stop.” I catch her hand, bring it to my lips. “You did what you had to. End of discussion.”

She looks up at me with those eyes that go molten when she’s feeling something she doesn’t want to name. There it is—that flicker of gold around the edges. Her dragon surfacing.

“I almost lost you again.”

“But you didn’t.”

The space between us charges with something that’s been building for weeks. Careful touches while I healed, stolen moments when Ember’s training kept her occupied, the weightof everything unsaid pressing against the boundaries we’ve maintained.

I cup her face in my hands, breathing her in like she’s air. “Vanya.”

She rises on her toes, meeting me halfway. The kiss starts gentle—comfort, reassurance—but her lips part under mine and suddenly it’s hunger. Hot and all-consuming, just as it’s always been.

Her hands fist in my shirt, pulling me closer. I back her against the wall, needing the contact, the proof that she’s real and here and mine.