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Antonius was still standing by the door, apparently struck speechless by the sight of her. I cleared my throat meaningfully, and he seemed to shake himself back to awareness.

"The letter," he said abruptly, pulling the parchment from his pocket. "This came for you."

Livia took it with curious eyes, examining the outside before breaking the seal. As she unfolded the message, I watched her face, looking for any sign of what it might contain. Her expression shifted from curiosity to shock to something that might have been relief.

She looked up at us, tears gathering in her eyes, and spoke two words that changed everything:

"They're alive."

9

"They're alive."

The words hung in the air like a blessing from the gods, and I felt something tight in my chest finally loosen. My hands trembled as I held the letter, reading the precious words again to make sure I hadn't imagined them.

A soft knock at the door interrupted my tears of relief.

"Livia? Are you ready for evenmeal?"

Jalend. I quickly wiped my eyes, though I couldn't stop smiling. "Come in!"

He entered cautiously, his scholar's robes neat and perfectly arranged as always. His dark eyes immediately found mine, then flicked nervously to Marcus and Antonius. I could see him taking in their size—both men were imposing even when relaxed, their gladiator builds obvious despite their casual clothes.

"Good evening," Jalend said politely, inclining his head to them both.

"Evening," Marcus replied easily, but I caught the way he was studying Jalend with curious eyes. Antonius simply nodded,though I noticed him straightening slightly, as if presenting himself for inspection.

Jalend's gaze returned to me, concern creasing his brow. "You've been crying. What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong," I said, unable to keep the joy from my voice. "Everything's wonderful. They're alive, Jalend. Tarshi and Septimus—they're alive."

His face immediately softened with relief. "That's incredible news. I know how worried you've been."

I looked down at the letter again, my heart swelling as I read Mira's careful script aloud. "She says they were badly hurt in the bombing, but she managed to get them out of the city that night. They've been hidden in a Talfen settlement somewhere—she won't say where, in case this letter goes astray—but once they've healed properly, she's sure they'll make their way back to me."

"That's amazing," Jalend said, and the genuine warmth in his voice made my heart flutter. He understood what this meant to me, how these men weren't just fellow resistance members but family in every way that mattered.

The relief and happiness bubbling up inside me was too much to contain. Before I could think about it, I launched myself at Jalend, throwing my arms around his neck in pure jubilation. He caught me with a startled laugh, his arms coming around my waist to steady us both.

"They're alive," I whispered against his ear, and felt him squeeze me tighter.

But my joy demanded more expression. I pulled back from Jalend and spun toward Antonius, who was watching with that soft smile he got when he thought I wasn't looking. Without hesitation, I flung myself at him next, and his massive arms encircled me like I was something precious and fragile.

"Did you hear?" I asked breathlessly, tilting my head back to look up at him. "They're safe. They're alive and safe."

"I heard," he said quietly, his deep voice rough with emotion. His dark eyes were so warm, so full of affection, and something else I'd been too afraid to name. "I'm so happy for you, Livia."

In that moment, overwhelmed by relief and joy and the way he was looking at me like I hung the moon, I did something I'd been wanting to do for months. I rose up on my toes and kissed him.

It was meant to be a quick press of lips, a celebration between friends. But the moment our mouths met, everything changed. Antonius went rigid with shock, his breath catching audibly, his hands tightening on my waist with enough force that I could feel the tremor in his fingers. For a heartbeat, I thought I'd made a terrible mistake—that I'd misread everything and destroyed our friendship in one impulsive moment.

Then he pulled back just enough to look down at me, his dark eyes searching my face with an intensity that made my breath catch. I could see the war playing out in his expression—surprise, longing, and something that looked almost like disbelief. Whatever he found in my face must have been the permission he was looking for, because his pupils dilated and he drew me back into his arms with a reverence that made my knees weak.

This kiss was nothing like the gentle peck I'd initiated. This was deep and thorough and desperate, months of suppressed longing poured into the connection between us. His lips were warm and sure against mine, moving with a hunger that sent heat spiralling through my entire body. One large hand tangled in my hair, his fingers threading through the strands like he was memorizing their texture, while the other pressed against the small of my back, holding me against the solid wall of his chest like he was afraid I might disappear if he loosened his grip even slightly.

I melted into him, my hands fisting in the fabric of his shirt as I kissed him back with equal fervour. He tasted like wineand something uniquely him, and when his tongue traced the seam of my lips, I opened for him without hesitation. The sound he made—somewhere between a groan and a sigh—sent shivers down my spine, and I felt him press closer, eliminating even the whisper of space between our bodies.

Time seemed to stop. There was nothing but the warmth of his mouth, the strength of his arms around me, the way my heart was hammering against my ribs so hard I was sure he could feel it through our clothes. When his thumb traced along my jaw with infinite gentleness, contrasting beautifully with the intensity of his kiss, I made a soft sound that seemed to undo him completely.