Page 72 of The Mafia Bloodline
Epilogue
The house was finally quiet.
Or as quiet as it ever got with a Dragic baby in it.
I rocked gently in the armchair by the window, the night spread out beyond the glass like velvet stitched with stars. The fire in the hearth threw lazy gold across the nursery walls, glinting off Volken’s tattoos as he moved behind me, barefoot, shirtless, his hair still damp from a shower.
Our son slept against my chest, tiny and warm, his breath puffing softly against my skin. Every time he exhaled, something inside me loosened. I’d never known a sound could undo me like this.
“You should be sleeping too,” Volken said, voice low, that growl that somehow lived between danger and devotion.
I smiled, exhausted but content. “You say that every night.”
He came closer, his shadow spilling over me like a blanket. “Because every night you ignore me.”
His hand brushed my shoulder, rough fingertips tracing the thin strap of my nightgown, but it wasn’t hunger this time, it was grounding. I leaned back into him, feeling the weight of him, the heat.
“I can’t sleep when he’s so quiet,” I whispered, kissing the baby’s soft hair. “It’s too peaceful. Makes me nervous.”
Volken’s sigh stirred my hair. “You’re supposed to enjoy the peace, Runa.”
I tilted my head, glancing up at him. “We don’t get peace, Volken. We get pauses.”
He huffed a quiet laugh, the sound vibrating against my ear. “Spoken like a true Dragic.”
I smiled, but it faltered when I caught the edge of exhaustion in his eyes. He’d been up for days again, planning, waiting for word from Viking and Draugr. The search for Caesar hadn’t stopped, and neither had the ghosts that came with it.
“They’ll find him,” I said softly. “Viking and Draugr are driven.”
He didn’t answer right away. His hands came around me, caging me gently, protectively, as he looked down at our son. “It’s been two weeks,” he murmured. “And still nothing. Caesar’s too clever to run blind. Someone’s hiding him.”
His tone darkened, and I felt the storm coil in him again. The same one that had driven him through every fight, every blood-soaked night. I reached up and took his hand, pressing it against my chest.
“Hey,” I said quietly. “He’s not here. You are. We are. And we’re safe.” I nodded toward the sleeping baby.
That earned me a small, reluctant smile. “You always know how to talk me down.”
“Someone has to.” I smirked. “You’re infuriating when you brood.”
He leaned closer, lips brushing the shell of my ear. “You love it.”
“Maybe,” I admitted, laughing softly. “A little.”
Volken eased the baby from my arms and carried him to the crib, the motion so careful it made my chest ache. Watching himlike that, the monster everyone feared, the soldier, the vampire move with such reverence was almost enough to make me forget everything else.
Almost.
When he turned back to me, the faintest flicker of worry still lingered in his eyes. I stood and crossed the space between us, my hand resting on his heart. “You can’t protect us from everything,” I whispered. “But you already gave me everything I needed.”
His jaw flexed, the fight in him softening into something that looked a lot like surrender. “I’ll never stop trying.”
“I know.” I smiled up at him. “That’s why I love you.”
He kissed me then…slow, unhurried, a promise and an apology all in one. The kind of kiss that said we’d survived, but we weren’t done fighting. That we might never be.
When we finally pulled apart, the baby made a tiny noise in his crib, it was half a sigh, half a dream. Volken’s eyes softened completely then, and I knew that whatever battles still waited for us, whatever fires the future held, this was what would hold him steady.
Our son. Our family. Our bond.
