Elena's POV
I smirked despite myself. "You'd look ridiculous screaming."
He leaned in, lips brushing my forehead. "Maybe. But I'd still do it for you."
I closed my eyes at the contact. Safe. Warm.
"We're going to win, Elena," he whispered. "No matter how ugly it gets."
I believed him.
For the first time in a long time, I truly believed him.
I looked up at him. Really looked.
There was no hesitation in his eyes. No doubt. Just that steady, unwavering belief I hadn't known I needed.
Maybe it was the way his voice softened when he spoke to me.
Maybe it was the quiet fury in his expression when I told him what Clarissa said.
Or maybe… it was just the way I felt right now—like everything outside these walls could collapse, and I'd still feel safe in this moment.
I reached up slowly, fingers brushing his jaw.
"Julian."
His name was a breath, not a question. And he understood it anyway.
