Chapter 18: Victory’s Embrace

The terrace had become a frozen altar—snow glittering under floodlights like scattered diamonds, Malachar’s bound form a dark smudge at the center, his shadows reduced to harmless wisps curling around the glowing chains like dying smoke. Sirens wailed closer, red and blue lights flashing across the angel statue’s serene face, painting the ice in shifting colors. Paramedics shouted orders, boots crunching snow as they rushed the stretcher toward Rikki.

But for Rikki and Sophia, the world had narrowed to the exquisite, aching space between them—every sound muffled, every light dimmed, every breath shared.

Rikki lay in the snow where she’d fallen—blood soaking her jacket dark, spreading warm and wet against her skin, breath shallow and ragged. Still, her hazel eyes were open, locked on Sophia with a fierce, unwavering intensity that made the cold feel distant, the pain secondary. The snow beneath her was melting from her body heat, creating a warm cradle that contrasted the icy air biting at exposed skin.

Sophia knelt beside her—knees sinking into snow, coat falling open, body curling protectively over Rikki’s. Her hands glowed warm gold as she pressed them to the wound—magic pouring in steady, desperate waves, knitting flesh, staunching blood, chasing away the shadow’s chill with heat that felt like pure love made tangible. Tears fell hot from Sophia’s eyes onto Rikki’s cheek—melting snowflakes, mixing with blood, trailing slow paths down flushed skin. Her auburn hair spilled forward, strands brushing Rikki’s face like silk caresses, carrying jasmine thick and intoxicating even through the metallic tang of blood.

“You absolute idiot,” Sophia whispered, voice breaking on a sob, fingers trembling against Rikki’s chest—feeling the strong, stubborn heartbeat beneath, the rise and fall of breath that synced with her own. Her body pressed closer—thighs straddling Rikki’s hip, heat shared through damp fabric, slick from earlier intimacy and now from melted snow. “You took that hit for me ... You almost left me.”

Rikki’s gloved hand—bloodied but steady—lifted slowly, cupping Sophia’s face with exquisite gentleness, thumb brushing away tears, feeling the wet heat against cold leather. Her touch lingered—tracing jaw, thumb pressing Sophia’s lower lip, parting it slightly, feeling the soft, trembling give. “Worth it,” she rasped, voice rough from pain but warm with something more profound, eyes never leaving Sophia’s—dark with love, bright with life. “Got the bad guy ... and kept my girl safe ... kept you.”

Sophia’s sob caught in her throat—she leaned down, forehead pressing to Rikki’s, breath mingling hot and visible in the freezing air, jasmine and blood and love. Her body curled closer—chest pressing to chest, hips aligning, heat shared in the snow, slick thighs brushing denim. “Your girl?” she whispered, lips brushing Rikki’s with every word—soft, trembling, tasting salt and copper and want. “You almost died saying that ... almost left me aching for you forever.”