Chapter Text
Ruhn heaved a sigh of relief as he loosened his tie and unhooked the top button of his crisp collared shirt. He felt stifled by the formalwear, and even more so by the event that had required it.
Lidia Cervos had been awarded the Medal of Honor for her service during the Asteri War and in the volatile time after. It was the first time Ruhn had seen her since the Eternal City. Since she’d looked at him with dark, haunted eyes and traced her fingers over the fuzz that had grown in since his hair had been shorn to his scalp.
Since she’d hurriedly unlocked his shackles and told him to run.
Lidia Cervos looked like Hel.
Her formal military regalia hung limply from her shoulders, not filled out with sensual curves of muscle and flesh like they used to be, though the silver torque still curved around her neck. Her fists had remained clenched so tightly her knuckles were white through the entirety of the presentation. Her pale, sunken cheeks were devoid of makeup and life, and her unpainted lips tight and curved into a frown. Sleeplessness had bruised the flesh under dark, dead eyes.
And her hair.
It stuck out in haphazard chunks, as if shears had been taken to it in handfuls, and there had been no attempt by her or anyone else to control it. It was so unlike the cool and collected agent he’d known, and so unlike the confident beast she’d also been.
Lidia Cervos looked like a dead woman walking.
The image, seared into his mind, made his chest ache. It fit perfectly next to the echo of her broken voice, calling to him as he built the walls that shut her out as his sister ran to another world. And both of those memories snuggled up with the feeling of her fingertips against his shaven head and his cheek as those golden eyes glimmered with unshed tears and a wordless apology rippled in the chasm between them.
Ruhn’s hand combed through his hair, which had grown down just below his chin, his fingers lingering and rubbing the ends absently as he tugged the tie clean away from his neck.
He’d just stepped into the living room, on the way to the liquor waiting in the kitchen, when a soft knock on the door stopped him in his tracks. The tingling sensation at his nape and the faint tug against his rib told him what he could’ve looked through the doorbell camera to see. And when he swung the door wide he was unsurprised to find Lidia Cervos on the other side. Her posture was straight and proud, in spite of the exhaustion in her gaze. In her black fatigues and faded black v-neck she looked almost like the female that the world had feared before they learned her truth, though even these were baggy and ill-fitting.
Ruhn didn’t know what to say, didn’t know how to greet the female who’d stolen his heart before he violently wrenched it from her hands. How long had it been since they’d been face to face? Nearly a year?
“I have something for you,” she murmured, looking squarely into his chest. His indigo gaze traced her outline, catching on the black duffel she held in her left hand. With a single dip of his chin he stepped to the side and gestured for her to enter. Lidia led him into the living room and then gestured for him to sit on the couch. She remained standing, stoic and silent, on the opposite side of the coffee table.
Then, without words or fanfare, she knelt and unzipped the bag. To the Valbaran prince’s unholy fascination, she fished out bundle after bundle of what looked like…
Hair?
Gold and auburn and onyx and chocolate brown, each handful tied with a string with a little white tag. Some were wavy, some straight and silky. One bundle was longer than his forearm, though most were considerably shorter. Ruhn leaned forward with furrowed brows, reaching for the tag attached to a fistful of blonde waves.
‘Pollux Antonius’
Holy. Fuck.
He tipped the tag of the next bundle: pin straight strands of darkest night.
‘Castor Scelus’
The Hawk.
Ruhn’s eyes snapped to the woman across from him as she stared at the macabre collection.
“I… what is this?”
“Everyone who hurt you, or ordered it. They’re all dead, save for one, though I wasn’t always the one dealing it.” Through her lashes, the former prince could see something glimmering in her stare — something dark and deranged and satisfied.
At least it was… something. But it still put him on edge.
He looked down the line, reading each tag, lungs stuttering when he read through six names that required no surname:
‘Austrus’
‘Eosphoros’
‘Hesperus’
‘Octartis’
‘Polaris’
‘Rigelus’
The Asteri.
Deep down he’d known the shifter had been involved when their bodies had been found, each with hair shorn to the scalp. She may not have dealt the final blow to all of them in the war — though she had likely killed one or two — but she had ensured their final humiliation.
The proof was there before his very eyes.
Then his attention fell upon the last bundle: the longest, still shining as if it had been spun from the sun itself. There was something unsettling about its beauty, about the urge he felt to run his fingers through it. But when he reached, he only touched the tag, and the name there sent his heart into his stomach.
‘Lidia Cervos’
When his gaze whipped back to her, they met smoldering liquid gold. Her stare was unwavering. Powerful.
“They’re all dead, save for one.”
“I never apologized to you. For the secrets I kept. For the things I did.” On a soft sigh she rose to her feet, the duffel forgotten. “You deserved so much more than I could ever give you. If I were stronger, I would have taken my own life just as I took theirs.” Her chin jerked toward the coffee table and where he sat, frozen with shock.
Lidia Cervos headed toward the door.
Ruhn stared at the grim collection of trophies strewn across the table. At the long golden ponytail that had been part of self-imposed penitence of a woman who had given all of herself. All he could hear was the echo of his name, the pounding of her fists against glittering adamant walls, the snick of cameras as she grimly accepted an honor she didn’t believe she deserved. He was blinded by her unkempt appearance and her empty gaze and the blur of tangled tresses of red and brown and black blonde.
And then… clarity.
“You remind me that I’m alive.”
It was the click of the closing door that spurred him. He leapt from the couch and reached the entryway in three colossal strides, throwing the door wide.
Ruhn’s large hand circled the shifter’s wrist before she’d made it to the bottom of the front steps, and she froze.
“Day…?” He whispered, praying that a sliver of her had survived. That would be enough — a seed that he could cultivate with comfort and love and understanding and forgiveness.
Silence.
He gave her a gentle tug, turning her body toward him. Her eyes were trained on the ground, so he palmed her cheeks and lifted her face to his.
“Lidia,” he breathed. Her name was foreign on his tongue. Rich and exotic and perfect. Gods, why hadn’t he said it before? Her eyes shot to his, wide and glassy, with the tiniest glitter of life.
That was all he needed to see.
Dipping his chin, he claimed her lips. The kiss was charged with everything he’d forgotten about how special she was — strong and capable and stubborn and beautiful. Something sparked inside him, a warm glow filling the void in his chest where she had been missing since that first day he’d shut her out.
The shifter pushed against him, breaking the kiss with a whimper.
“Ruhn… I…” she choked out before taking a shuddering breath. “I don’t deserve you.”
The Valbaran prince chuckled softly, his lips quirking into a gentle grin.
“I don’t give a fuck. You’re mine.”
He kissed her again before sweeping her into his arms and taking her inside. They had a lot to talk about. A lot of healing to do.
Ruhn was determined to make her smile again.
She’d killed for him.
Now he would bring her back from the brink.