Natalia let her head fall against Satori’s chest. She could hear his heartbeat, rapid and weak but still fighting. Still alive.
I saved him.
I actually saved him.
And he caught me.
He caught me even though it hurt him.
Even though he was dying.
He caught me.
The thought filled her with warmth that had nothing to do with her burning veins. She looked up at his battered face, at the blood and the bruises and the one eye still open, still watching her with that predatory gleam that made her stomach flip.
She grabbed his collar.
"Nat? What are you—"
She pulled him down.
She kissed him.
It was messy. Her lips were cracked. His were covered in blood. They both tasted like copper and stagnant water and something sweet she couldn’t identify. Her body screamed in protest at the movement, her blown mana circuits flaring with pain.
She didn’t care.
This wasn’t a secret anymore. This wasn’t a stolen moment in a hallway or a desperate collision in a bedroom. This was her, kissing him, in front of everyone.
In front of Emi, whose gasp was audible even over the collapsing dungeon.
In front of Isabelle, whose eyebrow rose in a way that suggested she’d file this information for later.
In front of Skylar, whose jaw went tight in a way Natalia would feel guilty about later. Maybe. If she remembered to care.
In front of the waking Sentinels, whose expressions ranged from confusion to horror to something that might have been envy on Celeste’s pale face.
In front of Julian Valerius, who stared at them like he’d just witnessed the universe break in half.
Satori kissed her back.
His good arm tightened around her waist. His lips moved against hers with a hunger that matched her own, a desperation that said I almost lost you and you almost lost me and we’re both too stubborn to die.
When they finally broke apart, both gasping for air that their damaged lungs couldn’t quite process, Natalia saw the look in his eyes.
Pride. Satisfaction. Ownership.
Mine, that look said.
Yours, she thought back.
Then Skylar marched up.
Her face was pale beneath the indigo and pink streaks of her soaked hair. Her violet eyes blazed with fury. Her entire body vibrated with tension that Natalia recognized because she’d felt it herself.
"You," Skylar said.
"Me," Satori agreed.
She slapped him.
The crack echoed through the chamber, somehow louder than the collapsing stones.
"You idiot!" Skylar’s voice was raw. "You absolute cliché! You stepped in front of a goddamn death beam like this is some kind of anime! What were you thinking?!"
"I was thinking Emi would die if I didn’t—"
She grabbed his face.
She kissed him.
It was harder than Natalia’s kiss. Angrier. The kiss of someone who’d spent their whole life running from connection and had just been forced to confront the terror of watching someone they cared about nearly die.
Natalia should have been jealous. She was jealous, a little. But mostly she was too exhausted to do more than watch as Skylar pulled away, her eyes suspiciously wet.
"Don’t you dare do that again."
"No promises."
"Jerk."
Emi appeared next.
The healer was crying openly, tears streaming down her face, her entire body shaking with sobs that seemed too big for her frame. She threw her arms around Satori carefully, avoiding his broken ribs with the instinct of someone who’d spent her life patching people back together.
"You hero." She buried her face in his neck. "You stupid, stupid hero."
She kissed his cheek. Once. Twice. A third time, each kiss leaving a wet mark from her tears.
Soomin was last.
The small girl moved like a ghost, her pink hair still streaked with white from the Fox’s influence. Her blue eyes were red-rimmed, her hands trembling as she reached for him.
She didn’t say anything.
She just pressed herself against his side, face buried in the crook of his neck, and made a sound that was half whimper and half sob.
In her mind, the Fox was silent for once. No sarcastic comments. No predatory suggestions. Just a quiet, wounded whine, like a dog that had watched its master nearly die.
Satori stood there.
Broken. Bleeding. Barely conscious.
Supported by four beautiful, dangerous women who had just watched him do something incredibly stupid and incredibly brave.
Holding a Black Core that shouldn’t exist.
He looked at Julian Valerius.
The golden prince was awake now, propped against a pillar by Aaron Sanders. His perfect blonde hair was matted with blood and dungeon water. His expensive armor was dented and torn. His sapphire eyes, once filled with arrogant certainty, now held something that looked almost like fear.
Satori grinned.
Blood dripped from his split lip.
"Told you I had dinner reservations."
Julian’s mouth opened. Closed. Opened again.
Nothing came out.
The dungeon chose that moment to really start collapsing.
"TIME TO GO!" Isabelle shouted.
The retreat was chaos. Raphael carried three unconscious Sentinels on his shoulders. Hikari dragged another two.
Satori refused to let go of Natalia.
He carried her the entire way, broken arm and punctured lung and all.
She tried to protest once.
"Shut up," he wheezed. "My girl. My carry."
She shut up.
Her girl. His girl.
His.
The word echoed in her chest, warm and possessive and perfect.
They emerged from the Gate into morning sunlight.
Watcher Graves was already waiting with medical teams, her scarred face grim as she surveyed the battered survivors. Professional Hunters in white coats descended on them like vultures, Emi’s healing aura finally getting proper support.
Natalia felt consciousness slipping away.
The last thing she saw before darkness took her was Satori’s face, still grinning despite everything.
The last thing she heard was his voice, quiet enough that only she could hear.
"Good job, Nat. You saved me."
No, she thought as sleep claimed her.
You saved me first.
A long time ago.
I was just returning the favor.