Page 55 of Blade

She wanted to argue that it wouldn't be their last night, that she would return from tomorrow's mission, that they would have countless nights ahead of them. But the reality of the danger she was facing couldn't be denied. Tomorrow might indeed be the end.

"Okay," she agreed. "Your room it is."

He nodded, seemingly satisfied, then gestured toward the door. "Would you mind finding Savage? I need him to help me get situated. Doc restricted my pain meds for the planning session, but I could use something stronger now."

The admission of need, of vulnerability, touched her deeply. Blade wasn't a man who easily acknowledged weakness or asked for assistance. That he would do so with her spoke volumes about the trust between them.

"Of course," she said, pressing a gentle kiss to his lips before standing. "I'll be right back."

As she moved toward the door, his voice stopped her. "Lily."

She turned back. "Yes?"

His eyes held hers, intense and earnest. "I'm proud of you. No matter what happens tomorrow, no matter how this all turns out... I want you to know that."

A lump formed in her throat, emotion threatening to overwhelm her. "Thank you," she whispered.

With a final shared look, one that contained all the things still left unsaid between them, she went to find Savage, to help Blade prepare for their night together. A night that might be their last, but one they would make count, regardless.

When Lily returned, Blade was already back in bed, propped carefully against a stack of pillows, his injured shoulder freshly bandaged, a sheen of sweat still clinging to his temples.

Savage had just finished adjusting the IV line and gave her a nod as he stepped past her toward the door.

“He’s all yours,” Savage said with a faint smirk that tried to mask the tension in his jaw. “Don’t let him talk you into anything stupid.”

“I never do,” she said softly, eyes locked on Blade’s.

The door clicked shut behind Savage, and silence settled between them. Not awkward but thick with everything they both felt and couldn’t yet say.

Blade watched her, his gaze dragging over her as if trying to memorize every inch of her face, every detail of her presence. “You came back.”

She smiled faintly, stepping toward the bed. “You didn’t think I would?”

“I hoped,” he admitted, his voice low, rough. “But hoping and believing aren't the same thing.”

She reached the edge of the bed and sat gently beside him. “You told me you were proud of me,” she said. “That meant more than you know. And I needed to say something back.”

He tilted his head toward her, wincing slightly with the movement. “Yeah?”

“I’m proud of you too. For fighting. For staying alive. For not shutting me out when I know every instinct in you wants to.”

His hand reached for hers, warm and strong despite everything he’d been through. “You make it impossible to shut you out.”

She leaned in, their foreheads brushing, noses nearly touching. The air between them felt charged, electric, every breath thick with anticipation, desperation, need.

“Lily,” he whispered, her name like a prayer on his lips.

She didn’t respond with words. Instead, she kissed him.

It was slow at first, reverent. Her lips brushed his with careful precision, mindful of his injuries, of the bandage, ofhis exhaustion. But when his good arm slid around her waist, anchoring her against him, the kiss deepened and turned molten.

All the moments of longing poured into it. The pain, the fear, the time spent wondering if they’d ever have this moment, if they’d be alive for it. If they'd ever get to taste each other like this, with the threat of tomorrow’s mission hanging overhead, gave the kiss a desperate intensity. Her hands framed his face, thumbs stroking his jaw as their mouths moved in sync, drinking each other in.

Blade groaned softly, the sound buried in her mouth. His grip tightened on her hip, guiding her carefully to straddle him without touching his injured side. She moved slowly, every motion deliberate, her body instinctively protective of his.

“You okay?” she whispered against his lips.

“Yeah,” he rasped, eyes dark and glassy with emotion. “More than okay.”

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