Page 77 of The Viper
And yet, in some twisted way, they weren’t so different. Both demanded endurance. Both required pretending not to be scared.
Only now, sitting beside him, I didn’t have to pretend.
We reached the gates of Dominion Hall as the sky shifted from gray to pale pink. The mansion loomed like something half-awake, its windows glowing faintly.
Inside, the air smelled of rain and salt and the faintest trace of cedar. Familiar now. Safe, even.
Lucas carried my bag to the guest room, set it on the bench at the foot of the bed, and turned toward the door like he meant to leave.
“Stay,” I said before I could stop myself. The word came out small, almost embarrassed, but it hung between us like a truth that refused to be taken back.
Lucas paused in the doorway, the hallway light cutting a clean line down his shoulder. For a moment, I thought he might ignore it—pretend he hadn’t heard. But then he turned, and something in his face softened. The soldier retreated, leaving only the man.
“There’s nowhere else I want to be,” he said quietly. “You know that, right?”
I nodded, the lump in my throat making it impossible to speak.
He came back to the bed, sat on the edge, and brushed a strand of hair off my face. His hand lingered at my temple, rough thumb tracing the curve of my cheek like he was memorizing it. “I have to check in with Noah,” he said. “Tell him what happened in New York, make sure everything’s locked down. After that, I’m here. With you.”
Something in me unclenched. I believed him. I didn’t know what kind of war was waiting for him out there—or who wanted to start it—but I knew that if he said he’d come back, he would.
“Will you do me a favor?” I asked.
He smiled faintly. “Anything.”
“It’s about Hannah.”
His brows drew together, just slightly.
“She’s my sister,” I said. “And she’s more than that—she’s everything that’s kept my life from unraveling. I’ve been pushing her away lately, but she’s part of this now whether she knows it or not. If someone’s watching me …” I swallowed hard. “Then they might watch her, too. Please, Lucas. Make sure she’s safe.”
He didn’t answer right away. His hand dropped from my cheek, fingers curling into his knee. Then he said, “Consider it done.”
“Promise me.”
He met my eyes, steady and unflinching. “Lexi. I won’t let anything happen to her. Or to you.”
The words shouldn’t have calmed me, but they did. Maybe because I wanted to believe in something stronger than fear. Maybe because I already did.
I reached for him, and he let me. When his arms came around me, the world felt smaller, quieter—like maybe it didn’t have to be so dangerous if we stayed right here.
He pressed his lips to my hair. “Get some sleep,” he whispered. “You’re safe here. And I’ll be right back, after I talk to Noah.”
“Don’t be long.”
“I won’t.”
He stood, and the room felt colder the moment he stepped away. I watched the door close softly behind him, the latch catching with a click that sounded like a promise kept.
Outside, the wind pressed against the windows, low and rhythmic, like the ocean breathing. I lay back on the bed, still tasting the salt of him, still hearing the hum of the plane, still seeing the flash of the old man’s envelope in the streetlight.
Somewhere down the hall, Lucas’s voice rumbled—a steady murmur, low and certain. He was checking in, doing what he had to do. Protecting. Planning.
And me? I was trying to sleep, but all I could think about was how love and fear could exist so easily in the same space.
I closed my eyes and pictured Hannah’s face—her focus, her lists, her steady hands. I hoped she was asleep somewhere safe. I hoped she knew how much I loved her, even if I didn’t say it enough.
Maybe tomorrow, I’d tell her.
