Page 183 of Dark Night of the Soul

His eyes closed once. Brief. Like he took the hit and stayed upright, anyway.

“I know.”

He’d known in the moment—I’d heard it in his voice—and he’d still kept moving.

“You’re not indestructible, you know.”

“Yes, I am.”

So stubborn. I rolled my eyes.

“You scared the hell out of me.” This time my voice did crack.

“I know that, too,” he replied. “We failed because I underestimated them.”

Kincade didn’t admit error lightly. Not when he could carry it alone and bury it like everything else.

“And because I didn’t plan for Decker,” he continued. “I should have.”

My throat tightened. “How could you have? He’s Decker.”

“I should have assumed he’d be where it hurt most.”

I stared at him. At the tension in his face. At the exhaustion. At the way he was still trying to hold the entire world upright even from a bed.

I hadn’t seen him coming. And that should have terrified me more than it did.

“So now what?” I asked. “We hide out in this beautiful villa and eat fancy German cookies until you’re healed?”

“And then finish what we started.” His eyes lifted to mine. “With help. The ones I trust.”

The Quiet Watch. Part dread, part relief shifted through me.

His hand tightened on mine. “Come closer.”

“I don’t think that’s safe.”

“It’s not. Do it anyway.”

“You’re still bossy,” I murmured.

“You’re still trouble,” he countered.

“At least we’re consistent.”

I slid forward carefully, keeping the bed as motionless as I could. When I was a breath away, his hand came up—warm, sure—cupping my cheek.

“You can stop being strong for a minute,” he said.

My throat tightened. I didn’t know how to do that without falling apart.

“Here,” he added, quieter. “With me.”

And then he kissed me.

Soft at first—careful—like he was giving me room to pull back. But I didn’t. I leaned in instead. The kiss deepened, unhurried and sure. His thumb brushed along my jaw, gentle despite the strength I knew was there. I tasted relief on his lips—mine or his, I couldn’t tell—and underneath it, a promise. The kind that didn’t need words.

Since the night I thought he was dying on that kitchen table, I let myself believe we’d make it.