Page 167 of Claimed

‘No,’ Valentin says. ‘It is not.’

There’s satisfaction in his tone. He won. Barely. Bloodily. With scars and costs still uncounted. But he won, and now he gets to make everyone else deal with the mess too.

I can feel how much he enjoys that. ‘You’re gloating,’ I whisper.

‘I have earned gloating.’

‘You almost died.’

‘And yet.’

I roll my eyes. The bond carries my affection before I can hide it.

His thumb strokes once over my knuckles.

After the call ends, the room empties by degrees. Rowan leaves to collapse somewhere or insult a cauldron. The Ten disperse to follow orders, their glances lingering on us with something like hope. Luca bows dramatically enough that I throw a pen at him. He catches it, grins, and vanishes before Valentin can object.

Then there’s just us.

The Glass glows behind him. The Tower feels different now. Alert, yes. Bruised, definitely. But alive in a way it wasn’t before.

Valentin turns to me. ‘You are exhausted.’

‘You say the sweetest things.’

‘You need bed.’

‘Also sweet.’

His expression softens, and my teasing fades because I feel what he feels now. The fear beneath every practical order. The need to put me somewhere safe, warm and within reach.

I step into him and his arms come around me instantly. ‘I’m safe, Valentin. I came back.’

His forehead lowers to mine. ‘Yes. But permit me some time to get used to it.’

‘You came after me.’

‘I will always come after you,’ he growls. ‘Always.’

‘That sounds like a delicious threat.’

‘It is a promise.’

I close my eyes. Sigh as love moves between us through the bond, quiet and powerful. Gods, so powerful it’s borderline scary. But it’s no longer detonating the Tower.

It may be a dangerous, stubborn thing. Ours. ‘What happens next?’ I ask.

‘Next, you sleep.’

‘And after that?’

‘After that, we hunt Selphine. We’ve warned my brothers. Now we prepare for Morrighan. We rebuild what was damaged. We decide how many rooms you require for weapons.’

‘Plural?’

‘You are a mated queen of New York. One room would be insulting.’

A laugh slips out of me. He holds me tighter, like the sound is treasure. ‘And us?’ I ask.