He’s careful and kind, waiting for my cues. My nerves sing out where he touches me, sparking to life, and then his skin is on mine and my body bursts into fire and longing until there’s no space left between us at all.

TWENTY-TWO

I WAKE TANGLED IN ERIK’S ARMS AND peer across to him, my eyes adjusting to the dark, his blond hair a mess across the pillow. I’m torn between pulling the crumpled sheet up over me and waking him. But while his eyes are closed, I can keep the ache niggling in me at bay, so I watch him sleep and wonder how I’ll feel when those blue eyes eventually open. I draw my fingers through my hair to see if it’s as untidy as his and then let them trace my own face, feeling for a change. Confusion churns deep inside me. I’m exactly the same, but everything is different.

Slipping from the bed, I wrap the sheet around me and examine myself in the window. Outside the glass, the world is black and my pale silhouette is reflected in it. I let the sheet fall open and study my body. It’s still mine. There’s no sign of a change, but it’s there. I can’t see or touch it, but I feel it somewhere, instinctually. Somewhere outside the bunker, a floodlight bursts on, and I back away, catching flashes of a woman in the pane’s reflection. It looks like my mother but then I realize it’s me. As the light streaks across the room, it slants through the windows and lights silver on Erik’s face, causing him to stir. He’s beautiful in his sleep, but soon his eyes flutter. The first wave of uncertainty rolls through me, catching my breath. He gets up gracefully, rubbing sleep from his eyes, unaware of the profound shift in the room.

“You are beautiful,” he murmurs, reaching to pull me back to him and kissing my neck as I tumble into his arms.

I stare at the window, watching the reflection of two lovers as I try to comprehend the evolution of our relationship—what we’ve shared. Erik’s mirrored eyes meet mine, and he doesn’t speak. He doesn’t have to—his gaze says it all. In the window, he looks like a man. Lean and tall. The angles of his jaw more defined under a thin layer of stubble. I still look like a girl. Too thin. No curves. But there’s something in my face that makes a different case. The couple in the glass share a secret. Will it be obvious to everyone when they see us? Will everyone know?

I don’t have time to decide, because the office door swings open and Jax’s head pops in.

“Knock!” Erik yells at him as I clutch the sheet closer to me.

“Sorry,” Jax says, turning his head away. “But we have a problem. Dante needs you both downstairs now.”

“What’s going on?” I ask, tripping over the sheet to get to my clothes.

“Alixandra is here,” he says.

“What?” I stop scrambling and stare at the back of Jax’s head.

“I’ll explain. Tell them we’re coming.” Erik pushes the door shut.

“Get dressed. I’ll tell you on the way down,” he says, handing me a boot.

“Tell me now.”

“Please,” he says, turning the full force of his blue eyes on me.

I make a face at him, but pull on the boot like he asked.

Before I can open the door, Erik grabs me and pulls me to him. “I have a feeling I won’t have many chances to do this soon.”

His lips press into mine, igniting a fire in my chest. I want to stay here, pressed close to him. When he pulls back, we linger in the moment, looking into each other’s eyes.

“‘Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, but bears it out even to the edge of doom,’” he whispers, quoting the sonnet we’d read together on Earth. It seems like a lifetime has passed since that night.

“Is that your idea of a pep talk?” I ask.

Erik’s lips curve into an almost-grin. “I just want you to remember that.”

“Always,” I say. He leaves one more soft kiss on my lips, but then we have to go.

In the corridors, people rush past us with bags and folders.

“What’s going on?” I ask Erik with dread.

“Come on.” He grabs my hand and we race back to the strategy room. As soon as we’re through the door, he drops my hand, shooting me an apologetic look. I wink at him.

“Gross,” Falon says.

“Good to see you again.” I smile sweetly at her, but then my gaze lands on the woman behind her.

“What are you doing here?” I demand.

“Nice to see you, too,” Alixandra says. “I’m sorry to interrupt your honeymoon.”

I blush furiously at this but keep myself otherwise composed. “Let’s try this again. What’s stopping me from ripping you in half?”

“Remind me not to save your life in the future.” Alixandra glares back at me.

“Will someone explain what in Arras she’s doing here?”

“I thought you were going to tell her,” Jost says to his brother.

“We were … preoccupied,” Erik says.

Dante covers his eyes and turns away from us. “I don’t need to hear about this.”

“We were talking,” Erik says.

“Is that what they’re calling it these days?” Falon asks.

“You!” Dante points at her. “Cut it out.”

“I was under the impression that there was an emergency,” I remind everyone.

“And you are right, dear girl,” Albert says, shuffling into the room with Jax’s help. I can’t help but notice that Albert is looking worse than yesterday. As though all his stolen years were catching up with him at once. “But young love is equally thrilling, I think.”