After tonight, nothing was ever going to separate them.
“It’s over,” he murmured, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “I’ve got you now, angel.”
And she had him... forever, if he had anything to say about it.
They were one. Her strong heartbeat confirmed his resolve, pounding in perfect cadence with his. Her blood was a bright force within him, so robust it took his breath away.
They had fortified their bond in the moments following tonight’s attack. His wounds had been severe, but already he was healing, thanks to Chiara. His diminutive mate had saved him with her blood not once, but twice.
She had saved them both with the astonishing power of her Breedmate gift.
He was still marveling at the awesome energy she’d wielded at the height of the battle. The ferocity of it had been a revelation, not only to him, but to her. It was dimmed now, returned to the soothing vibration he’d felt humming along his senses ever since he’d taken his first taste of her blood.
She tipped her head up to look at him, her arms wrapped around him. “I was so scared, Scythe.”
He brought his hand up to stroke her cheek. “You were miraculous. My miracle.”
“I had no idea that power was inside me. The night Luigi’s brother first broke into the villa, I remember screaming at him as I fended him off with Sal’s sword. I remember feeling dazed and drained afterward, but I didn’t know why. I thought it was an adrenaline crash. I thought I had been lucky that I was able to drive him away.”
Scythe grunted, having more understanding now. “You were lucky. But you were also stronger than you knew.”
“Your blood has made me stronger,” she said, brushing her lips over his chest. “Your love has made me stronger, Scythe.”
On a humbled groan, he cupped her beautiful face in his palm and drew her toward him for his kiss. As battered as he was from the fight, it was nothing compared to the devotion he felt for his woman. Nor was it any match for the desire he felt for her.
Bringing her close, he deepened the joining of their mouths, need coiling within him. He felt hers inside him, too, and his body quickened with hunger.
He might have made love to her right then and there, if not for the sudden prickle of awareness that brought his head up with a start.
Chiara’s eyes widened. “What is it?”
“Vehicles coming up the driveway outside.”
A jolt of alarm shot through her veins and into him via their blood bond. “Not more Rogues?”
He shook his head, feeling no cause for concern. “No, not them. But we should get dressed. Come on.”
By the time they emerged from the villa a moment later, Trygg and Savage were already out of the Order’s black SUV and jogging up onto the porch. Garbed in combat gear and heavy weaponry, the two warriors gaped at Scythe and Chiara, who stood hand-in-hand waiting to greet them.
“Holy shit,” Savage gasped.
Trygg ran a hand over his shaved head, then chuckled under his breath—one of the few times Scythe had ever seen his surly brother crack anything close to a smile.
The two warriors’ gazes swept the moonlit lawn that was still smoking from the dozen Rogues that Scythe had ashed with titanium blades, arrows and bullets.
Savage blew out a low whistle. “You did all this by yourself?”
“I had some help,” Scythe said, bringing his extraordinary Breedmate under the shelter of his arm.
Trygg and Savage exchanged a look.
“Commander Archer is going to be very interested to hear this story,” Savage said. “Hell, so am I.”
“Chiara and I will be glad to tell it, but first we need to return to Rome. There’s something more important we need to do there.”
She glanced up at him, and he felt her joy—her relief—beaming up at him from her warm brown eyes. “We need to see Pietro. I need to see my son.”
Scythe bent his head to hers, his mouth nestling beside her ear. “Our son, Chiara.”
She drew back on an inhaled breath, elation radiating in her exquisite face. Then she threw her arms around his neck and kissed him like a woman possessed. Like a woman deeply, madly in love.
Scythe kissed her back with all the devotion his battered heart could hold.
His past had been hell. Tonight had been the closest he’d ever come to that place again. But now he knew what heaven was.
He was holding his own extraordinary piece of it in his arms.
And he was never letting her go.
Epilogue
Six months later…
“Push me higher!”
Scythe grinned and reached for the swing, gripping the wooden seat and pulling back before letting it fly. Pietro squealed with laughter, and he chuckled right along with him.