The grief. The rage. The bone-deep exhaustion of carrying this weight alone.
Viktor held me through it. Didn't tell me to stop. Didn't tell me to be strong. Just held me while I fell apart in his arms.
“I miss her,” I choked out. “I miss her so much and I don't know how to keep living without her. Don't know how to be the person she wanted me to be when she's not here to see it.”
“I know.” His hand moved to my hair. Gentle. Soothing. “I know you miss her. And it is okay to miss her. Okay to wish she was still here. Okay to be angry that she is not.”
“I should have protected her. Should have been there. Should have?—”
“You were child. It was not your job to protect her. It was not your fault she died.” His voice was fierce. Absolute. “Do you hear me? It was not your fault.”
The words broke something else. Something I'd been holding since that night. The guilt. The belief that somehow, if I'd been different, better, stronger, I could have saved her.
“This is revenge, not justice,” Viktor said quietly.
“I don't care what you call it. I need it. It's the only thing keeping me moving forward.”
“Even if it destroys you?”
“Even then.”
More silence. His breath was warm against my lips. His hands were steady despite everything.
“You cannot do this alone,” he said finally.
“I've been doing it alone for years.”
“Not anymore.” His eyes opened. Met mine. And I saw the decision there before he said it. “If you are going to do this. If you are going to keep hunting. Then I come with you.”
“Viktor—”
“No. Listen to me. You say you will not stop. Fine. I cannot make you stop. But I will not stand by and watch you throw yourself at death over and over while I do nothing.” His grip on my face tightened. “So I come with you. I watch your back. I keep you alive while you hunt your answers. And I remind you that you are allowed to be human. That you do not have to carry this alone anymore.”
“That's not your job.”
“My job is to protect you. From external threats. From yourself. From whatever is trying to kill you. This counts.”
“It's too dangerous. If anyone finds out?—”
“Then we make sure no one finds out.” His jaw set. Stubborn. “This is not negotiable, Sebastian. Either I come with you, or I tell your father everything and he locks you in palace tower until you are forty.”
“You wouldn't.”
“Try me.”
We stared at each other. Testing. Pushing. Neither willing to back down.
“This is insane,” I said.
“Yes.”
“You could lose your job. Your reputation. Everything.”
“I know.”
“Then why?”
His hands slid from my face into my hair. Fingers threadingthrough it. Gentle. Possessive. “Because I cannot watch you die. Because thought of losing you makes me want to burn the world down. Because somewhere between workshop and training hall and watching you fight like you were born to it, I stopped being able to pretend I do not care.”
