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Then something in her pulse shifted. He felt it through the press of her back against him, the way her shoulders eased just a fraction, the way her hands half-lifted as if to pry his arms off and then hesitated.
His own body reacted to the closeness, to the heat of her, to the way her scent wrapped around his senses — desert wind, old wax, steel. Desire flared, low and insistent. He breathed against her hair, careful and slow, trying not to let his hands tighten too much.
Mia's fingers curled into fists at her sides.
"Kai," she said, voice quieter now, edges scraped raw. "If you really want me, you cannot just hold me when the room is dark and the war is over. You have to marry me. Do you understand what that means? I have enemies. Many. They see my name as a challenge. If you take me, you take them too."
He did not need the system to weigh that ledger.
"I am sure," he said, without a trace of doubt. "Completely. Do you really want to marry me?"
