Page 206 of Arrow

“None of us do,” Luna said. “I certainly didn’t plan to fall for Atlas. And now look at me.” She gestured to her swollen stomach with a rueful smile. I smiled, taking another sip of champagne. “So what’s your advice? As someone who survived marrying into this insanity?”

“Survive is putting it mildly,” Luna laughed, running her hand over her belly. “But here’s what I’ve learned—in this world, love isn’t soft. It’s not gentle poems and candlelit dinners. It’s blood oaths and protection. It’s knowing someone would burn down cities for you.” She leaned closer, her voice dropping. “Arrow may never say the words you’re waiting to hear. Men like him aren’t built that way. But watch his actions—they speak volumes.”

I thought about how Arrow had looked at me earlier tonight, how he’d touched me with such reverence. How different it felt from the violent claiming I’d grown accustomed to.

“I’m not waiting for words,” I said, surprising myself with the truth of it. “I stopped believing in pretty words a long time ago.”

Luna nodded, understanding flashing in her eyes. “Then you’re already ahead of where I was.”

We talked for hours, the champagne flowing freely as Luna shared stories about her early days with Atlas—how they’d fought against their attraction, how violently they’d collided when they finally gave in. Frank maintained his post by the door, occasionally refilling our glasses, mine champagne, and Luna’s sparkling water, but otherwise giving us the privacy to speak freely.

“Did you ever regret it?” I asked as the night grew late and our voices dropped to whispers. “Choosing Atlas? This life?”

Luna’s hand drifted to her belly, a small smile playing on her lips. “Never. Not even in the darkest moments. This life—it’s not easy. It’s not safe. But it’s ours.” She reached for my hand and squeezed it gently. “And tomorrow, it will be yours too.”

I was choosing this—choosing Arrow, choosing us against everyone else. For the first time in my life, I wasn’t being forced, manipulated, or sold. I was walking into this with my eyes open.

“Get some sleep,” Luna said, stifling a yawn. “Tomorrow will be chaotic enough without you being exhausted.”

I nodded, finishing the last of my champagne before standing. “Thank you,” I said. “For this. For everything.”

“That’s what family does,” she replied simply, and the word—family—hit me with unexpected force.

I’d lost my mother. My father had sold me. My brother was dead. Yet somehow, in the midst of all that loss, I’d found something new. Something chosen rather than inherited.

“Do you happen to know a tattoo artist who does house calls?”

“Actually, I do.” Luna grinned mischievously. “Atlas has a guy who’s very discreet. What are you planning?”

I smiled, feeling a strange sense of certainty wash over me. “A wedding gift for Arrow. Something permanent.”

Luna’s eyes lit up with understanding. “Fuck sleep. I’ll make a call. She can be here in thirty minutes.”

“Perfect.”

True to her word, thirty minutes later, a petite woman with sleeve tattoos and a septum piercing arrived at the penthouse. Frank checked her through, and Nika introduced herself and set up her equipment while Luna watched with fascination.

“What are we doing tonight?” Nika asked, snapping on black gloves. I showed her what I wanted.

“Where do you want it?” she asked.

I touched the spot just below my left breast, right across my ribcage. “Here. Where he’ll see it every time he undresses me.”

Frank raised an eyebrow but said nothing, maintaining his post by the door while Luna settled beside me on the couch for moral support.

Luna squeezed my hand as I lay back on the couch, the buzz of the tattoo gun filling the quiet room. The pain was sharp but cleansing.

“Almost done,” Nika murmured, wiping away the excess ink. “It’s beautiful.”

When she finished, I examined her work in a hand mirror. The ink was a testament against my skin.

“It’s perfect,” I said.

After Nika left with a generous payment and instructions for care, Luna hugged me gently. “Now, you should get some rest. Tomorrow’s a big day, and it starts early.”

Tomorrow, I will marry Arrow Romanov. The thought no longer filled me with dread or resignation. Whatever came after—whatever plots my father had set in motion, whatever challenges Arrow’s family presented—we would face together.

For the first time in my life, I wasn’t alone.