Kol pushed himself upright, every muscle protesting.He pressed a hand briefly to his ear.
“Eliza,” he said.
“I know,” she replied softly.“Come home to me.”
The word hit him square in the chest.
Home.That’s what she was for him.
Not a place.Not walls or coordinates or safe houses burned and rebuilt.A voice in his ear when the world was falling apart.A steady presence that had held the line when his instincts screamed for blood.
“I’m on my way,” Kol said, meaning far more than the words themselves.
For the first time since the night had begun, something in his chest loosened.
The war wasn’t over.Not even close.
But tonight—
They had won.
Chapter Thirteen
Two days later, thehouse was quiet in a way that felt earned.
Not empty.Not tense.Just ...settled.
The Kansas City house had absorbed the Covenant the way houses of similar stature did—rooms repurposed, corridors learned, silence adjusted to.Security lights hummed softly behind reinforced glass.Outside, winter pressed against the windows, pale and cold, while inside the house held warmth, low voices, and the steady rhythm of people who knew how close they’d come to losing everything.
Eliza lay on top of the covers beside Nikolai, the late afternoon light spilling across the room in warm bands.They hadn’t undressed beyond comfort in those two days.Hadn’t crossed any lines, either of them hadn’t been ready to cross.They slept close, shoulder to shoulder, sometimes tangled by accident, sometimes by choice, always careful not to startle.
She’d learned the weight of him now.The steadiness of his breathing.The way he woke instantly if she shifted too sharply, one hand already half-raised, not to grab—never to grab—but to reassure.
They were learning each other in inches.
Down the hall, a door remained closed at all times.
