Logan was waiting for me in the garden behind Silver Creek's main house, sitting on the stone bench where I'd made so many difficult decisions over the past months.
He looked completely recovered from the assassination attempt. No trace of the toxins that had nearly killed him, no lingering effects from Enhanced Protocol weapons designed to torture supernatural nervous systems. The divine energy that had flowed through our power-sharing network during the final battle had healed more than just his injuries—it had strengthened him in ways that went beyond physical recovery.
"You wanted to talk," I said, settling onto the bench beside him with the careful distance that had become habit since our relationship shifted into complicated territory.
"About us. About what happens now that the war's over and we don't have Viktor Kane forcing impossible choices on everyone." Logan's amber eyes were steady, thoughtful. "Aria, we need to be honest about what we've become to each other."
