Page 137 of Storm of Ink and Blood

Zarya inhaled a shaky breath. How had their light and fun conversation turned to this? But the signs had been there for the past weeks. The way he looked at her. The way he rarely left her side. Every night, he told her that he loved her, and every night she went to sleep with those words lodged in her throat.

They kept bubbling to the surface, and she didn’t know what was stopping her from saying them. Until now. When she looked at him, she did see the whole world. She couldn’t have done any of this without him. He’d saved her over and over and never asked for anything in return. All he wanted was her heart, and he had it. He’d had it ever since that night she’d fallen asleep on a lonely beach and dreamed of a bigger life.

“I love you, Zarya,” he said in that low, growly voice that spread through her chest, filling up the space behind her heart and the one between her thighs. He made her feel everything. With him, she was fearless and bold. Stronger than iron. Nothing could stand in her way. “I want to be yours in every way possible. I want you to be mine. Masatara. Friend. Lover. Wife.”

He lowered his hands and stared at her, silently willing her to let go and stop being afraid of what she wanted.

“I love you, too,” she finally whispered as her heart squeezed and her stomach swooped. “I love you, Rabin. Thank you for waiting for me.”

His eyes lit up, those golden flecks growing brighter as he touched her cheek, sweeping aside a lock of her hair.

“I would have waited until the sun burned out of the sky, Spitfire. I thought I made that clear.”

She smiled and nodded, tears prickling the backs of her eyes. “I love you,” she whispered again, suddenly desperate to say those words over and over.

He wrapped an arm around her waist and hauled her against him, tipping her chin up.

“Then marry me. Tomorrow. We’ll find somewhere quiet. Just the two of us.”

“What about my father?” she asked. “Won’t he be angry with you?”

Rabin shook his head. “It’s our lives and our choice. I’m fine with it if you are.”

“I owe him nothing.”

“Then say yes,” he implored.

She opened her mouth and paused. Were they really doing this?

He cupped the back of her head and slanted his mouth over hers. Her back arched into him, his warm chest pressing against hers as he devoured her with hungry kisses.

When he pulled away, she could feel a flush creeping over her cheeks.

“Okay,” she whispered. “Let’s get married.”

FORTY-SEVEN

After the proposal, they’d been too tired to stay awake any longer. Rabin wrapped her in his arms, and she drifted off to sleep in the honeyed warmth of knowing this was the right choice.

Yes, they’d had their ups and downs, but they were beyond the mistakes either of them had made. What they had was so much bigger than that.

Zarya awoke early the next morning, knowing the first of today’s vanshaj would be arriving soon. It was still dark, the sun just barely peeking over the horizon. She let Rabin sleep a bit longer. He looked too peaceful to wake up. He’d start his busy day soon enough.

She pulled on a clean salwar kameez of green cotton and brushed her hair into a high ponytail before scrubbing her face and her teeth. Dark circles hung under her eyes and her skin was pale from all the long hours they’d been working. She tapped her cheeks, hoping to generate some color, but what she needed was a quiet room and a week of uninterrupted sleep. Maybe she’d get a chance if they were successful the day after tomorrow.

She headed down the stairs to find Yasen already at the kitchen island with his elbows on the surface and a mug between his hands as he stared into nothing. His silver hair had been brushed and neatly braided, and he wore a grey kurta that clung to the swell of his biceps.

She leaned in the doorway and grinned, waiting for him to notice her.

After a moment, he looked over and frowned.

“Good morning,” she said.

He looked away and took a sip from his mug. “If you think you’ll embarrass me, you’re about to be very disappointed.”

She laughed and grabbed the pot of coffee on the counter, pouring herself a cup and sliding into the seat next to him. They sipped in companionable silence until Zarya couldn’t take it anymore.

“Rabin said he’s caught you twice already.”