Page 101 of Claimed Under Bloodlight
The time is 11:59 PM.
I turn the crown. The tactile resistance of the mainspring winding tight is familiar. It used to be the only thing that calmed me down. It used to be my way of imposing order on a chaotic, broken world.
Click. Click. Click.
I feel the tension build inside the mechanism. Stored energy. Potential.
I look at Jax. I look at our daughter. I look at the snow falling on a peaceful kingdom that we built out of blood and mud.
I push the stem back in.
The watch starts to tick. A steady, healthy rhythm.
Tick. Tock. Tick. Tock.
"Midnight," I say.
Jax leans down. He kisses me, and the world narrows down to the heat of his mouth and the weight of his love.
"Merry Christmas, Miranda."
I rest my hand on his chest, feeling the beat that matches my own.
For the first time in my life, I don't need to fix anything.
Everything is perfect.
