---- Chapter 11 Abby Talley POV: Night fell. In the master suite, | waited. Brannon entered the room, his arm now professionally bandaged. He shed his jacket, the silence between us thick with unspoken words. "Come to bed," | said softly, patting the space beside me. He hesitated, then slowly walked to the bed. He sat on the edge, his back to me. He unbuttoned his shirt, revealing a landscape of muscle and old, faded scars. "Are you still not afraid of me?" he asked, his voice rough. "No," | said. He turned to face me, his eyes dark with an emotion | couldn ' t decipher. "Are you completely over him? Is there any part of you that still..." | didn' t let him finish. | surged forward, wrapping my arms around his neck and pressing my lips to his. The kiss was desperate, hungry, a culmination of two lifetimes of unspoken feelings. He responded instantly, his arms circling my waist, pulling me tight against him until there was no space left between us. He pulled back, his breath ragged. "Abby," he whispered, his ---- voice thick with a raw, possessive hunger. He lowered his head to my neck, his lips tracing a path along my pulse point before he bit down. It wasn't a bite of violence, but of claiming. A mark of ownership, sealing our bond. "You are mine," he growled against my skin. "Mine." "| have always been yours," | breathed. Two months later, the morning sickness started. When | told Brannon, he froze. He stared at me, his face completely blank, for a full ten seconds. Then, a slow, brilliant smile spread across his face, transforming his severe features into something breathtakingly handsome. "Are you...?" He couldn' t even say the word. | took his hand and placed it on my still-flat stomach. "Yes." He let out a choked laugh, a sound of pure, unadulterated joy. He knelt before me, pressing his ear to my abdomen as if he could already hear a heartbeat. "A baby," he whispered, his voice filled with awe. Our moment of peace was shattered by a knock at the door. A security guard entered, his face grim. "Sir, Mrs. Walls... we have news. Jana Brady was found this morning. She took her own life." A second guard appeared behind him. "And sir... there' s been an incident at the northern border. A rogue attack. It was ---- Connor. He' s been mortally wounded. He' s asking for... her." Brannon was on his feet instantly. "You' re not going." "Yes, | am," | said, my voice firm. "I have to end this. For good." | found Connor lying under a windswept tree, the life rapidly draining from him. He had broken his exile, a crime punishable by death. He coughed, blood flecking his lips. He saw me and a faint, pained smile touched his mouth. "Abby... | remember... our son. He had your eyes." The air left my lungs. He remembered our child from the past life. A child | had lost because of his neglect. A bitter, cold laugh escaped my lips. "So do I." The shock on his face was absolute. "You... you remember, too?" "| remember everything, Connor," | said, my voice as cold as the grave he had sent me to. "I remember you letting our son die because you were too busy with a business deal. | remember you hitting me until | couldn' t stand. | remember bleeding out on the marble floor while you laughed with your mistress in the next room." The hope in his eyes died, replaced by a devastating, soul- crushing understanding. He finally saw me, not as a prize to ---- be won, but as the woman he had utterly destroyed. "No..." he whispered, the word a dying breath. That was the last word he ever spoke. Brannon appeared at my side, wrapping his strong arms around me as the sky opened up and rain began to fall, washing the blood from the ground. | leaned back against his solid chest, my hand on my stomach, feeling the rain on my face. It wasn't cold. It felt like a cleansing, washing away two lifetimes of pain. For the first time, | was truly, completely free. The sun broke through the clouds, its rays illuminating the hand Brannon had placed over mine on my belly. A new life. A new beginning. With the right man.