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Peace. Simple, uncomplicated, entirely earned peace, sitting in a room I once thought only existed for other men, men who never had to build their lives out of danger and vigilance the way I have.

I have it now anyway, chosen and claimed the same way I chose her, deliberately, completely, with no part of myself held back from the decision.

EPILOGUE

HARPER

I wake up on my wedding day to find Artem already gone from the bed, exactly as we agreed the night before, even if some small, superstitious part of me wanted him there anyway.

I lie there for a moment, listening to the house already stirring below me, footsteps in the hallway, someone laughing quietly in the kitchen, the whole property waking up around one single day the way it usually only wakes up around a threat.

The dress hangs on the back of my closet door, simple and cream-colored, nothing like the elaborate gowns I used to see in magazines back when I still had time to flip through them at a checkout counter.

I picked it myself, no input from anyone else, and I stand in front of it for a long moment before I finally take it down.

Nadia’s replacement, a woman named Elena who’s turned out to be genuinely lovely, helps me with my hair in the guest room down the hall, twisting it back loosely instead of the elaborate updo I’d originally requested.

“You’ll want to be able to move your head today,” she tells me, pinning the last piece into place. “Trust me on this one.”

I laugh and let her have her way with it. By the time she’s finished, I barely recognize the woman looking back at me in the mirror, not because anything about my face has changed, but because of the way I’m standing, shoulders back, chin level, nothing braced or guarded in the set of them anymore.

The ceremony happens on the back terrace, the same terrace where Artem told me the truth for the first time all those months ago, and I think that’s fitting in a way neither of us planned when we picked the location.

String lights hang overhead even though it’s still afternoon, and a small arch of white flowers stands where the officiant waits someone Yuri vetted personally, though I’ve learned not to ask too many questions about what that vetting actually involves.

The tree line beyond the property looks different in daylight than it does at night, softer somehow, less like a wall keeping the world out and more like an ordinary view.

The guest list is small enough to count on two hands. Yuri stands beside Artem as his best man, sharp in a suit I’ve never seen him wear before, and beside him sits a woman I don’t recognize, dark-haired, laughing easily at something Marek says to her before the music starts.

Caleb catches my eye from his seat and gives me a small nod, his wife beside him with Poppy asleep against her shoulder, worn out from the excitement of a car ride and a house full of strangers.

I walk down the short aisle alone, since there’s no one left to walk me down it, and I decide halfway through that I actually prefer it that way.

This is my choice, made on my own two feet, and I don’t need anyone else’s hand steadying me toward it. My legs don’t shake the way I half expected. If anything, each step feels more certain than the last one.

Artem watches me the entire way, and I’ve seen him controlled in a hundred different situations by now, calm in the face of gunfire, steady under pressure that would break most men, but I’ve never seen him look quite like this before.

His jaw works once before I reach him, and he swallows hard, and I realize with something like wonder that he’s nervous. “You look incredible,” he says quietly, once I’m close enough that only he can hear it.

“You clean up alright yourself.”

The officiant runs through the ceremony efficiently, and when it comes time for vows, Artem speaks first, no notes in his hands, nothing rehearsed in his voice.

“I spent the first night I knew you deciding you were dangerous to everything I’d built. I was right, just not in the way I expected. You’ve undone walls I spent years building, and I’ve never once regretted a single piece of what that’s cost me.” He takes my hands in his, steady now, the nervousness from a moment ago folded away somewhere I can’t see it anymore. “I promise you honesty, for the rest of however long we have. I promise you all of myself, not just the parts that are easy to love.”

I laugh despite the tears already gathering, unable to help myself. “That’s a hell of an opening line for a wedding vow.”

“I told you I’d never lie to you again. That includes making this sound prettier than it actually was.”

When it’s my turn, I don’t have anything prepared either, so I just say what’s true.

“I used to think love was supposed to feel safe first, and everything else second. You taught me it can go the other way around. Nothing about this was safe. Nothing about us made sense on paper.” I squeeze his hands, feeling the small tremor still running through mine. “But I chose you anyway, every single day since I actually had the choice, and I’ll keep choosing you for as long as you’ll have me.”

We kiss the second the officiant gives us permission to, and the small crowd erupts into applause, Poppy waking with a startled cry that turns into giggles the second Caleb picks her up and spins her once in celebration.

The reception moves inside once the sun starts dropping, string lights carrying the party from the terrace into the dining room, and I catch Marek leaning toward Yuri’s date at one point, grinning in a way that immediately makes me suspicious.

The band Artem hired plays something slow, and half the room is already dancing by the time I make my way over to their table.