“Skin,” he agreed.
“Her name. On us. Shoulder to shoulder.”
He hummed, agreeing.
“And ours,” I said, kissing the top of her head again, “on her, where no one could pretend they could read around it.”
I felt him watching me in the dark.
She shifted. Her knee slid up my thigh and her toes caught my calf.
There was no room for a box here. There was only the hard work of staying alive next to the person you would ruin a city for.
“Sleep if you want,” he said. “I’ll keep time.”
“You sleep,” I said. “I’ll hold.”
“We’ll share,” he wasn’t not talking about the night.
I kissed the crown of her head again.
Chapter Fifty-Seven
BASTION
The main glass table in the war room wasn’t projecting trade routes or Villain.
Instead it projected the island’s layout in three dimensions — the Atrium of Bone, the Lock-In House, the carved stretch of private beach that would be hers, whether she wanted it or not.
Off shore our yacht would wait.
When Luca came back in, he didn’t take his usual seat at the far end. He dropped into the chair opposite me, forearms braced on the glass like he’d already made peace with what we were about to do.
The Codex lay between us, open to the Claiming Rite section. A fountain pen rested on the page, black ink still wet from where I’d circled a line.
“You want to walk it?” he asked.
I nodded once. We weren’t decidingif. Onlywho.
“Atrium of Bone,” I said first, reading the header, “The bed goes in the center. She keeps her eyes on us, not them.”
“That won’t be a problem,” Luca answered, already marking my name beside the law that demanded it.
“The Unmaking.”
“You cut it,” he said without hesitation.
I could already feel the wedding dress in my hands, the sound of it tearing away until nothing was left between her and the dynasty.
“Blade of Binding.”
“You give it to her,” I told him. “Keep your hand over hers when she takes the first cut.”
“Circle of Blood.”
“You,” I said.
He signed his name beside it without pause.