Page 143 of The Endless Want

“She won’t go,” I say gently.

Declan sighs, but there’s no fight in him. “I figured you’d say that.”

“She’s a warrior,” I remind him. “Like the rest of us.”

His hand finds my stomach, warm and solid. “And what about you? What do you want now?”

“I want to live,” I say. “I want our children to grow up knowing we fought for something bigger than legacy. I want peace, Declan. Even if we have to build it ourselves.”

He pulls me closer, kissing my temple. “Then that’s what we’ll do.”

We leave for Chicago at dawn two days later.

Technically, it’s a honeymoon. In reality, it’s half romance, half quiet reconnaissance. Liam wants us close enough to return immediately if something happens, but far enough away that I can breathe without flinching every time a door opens.

Declan holds my hand on the plane, fingers linked, thumb brushing my knuckles in steady circles. The city glitters beneath us as we land—skyscrapers rising like steel battlements, the lake stretching out like a silver shield.

“It’s beautiful,” I whisper.

“It’s ours for the week,” he murmurs. “And no one’s going to ruin it.”

And now, as the sun rises over Chicago and Declan presses a kiss to my wedding ring, I realize something simple: We’re not just surviving anymore. We’re living. Together.